


500 Days

by wanderlustt



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Heartbreak, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5656888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderlustt/pseuds/wanderlustt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A story of boy meets girl. The boy, Oikawa Tooru of Miyagi, grew up believing he'd only ever love one thing in life until he'd met "the one." The girl, Sawari Setsuna, did not share this belief. Oikawa meets Sawari the spring of his second year in Seijoh. He knows almost immediately she is who he has been searching for. Oikawa, OC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sawari

**Author's Note:**

> Follows the 500 days of summer format, but will be linear occasionally.

Day 8

Oikawa Tooru is many things. Handsome. Flirtatious. Analytical. Keen.

What he isn't is a good student.

He knows that, of course, and he wishes he could give more of a damn about his academics, but there's only one thing on his mind, and it has almost nothing to do with the textbooks and practice sets he's been pouring over for the past three hours.

The red-haired girl sitting next to him frowns when she notices another mistake in the equation he's been practicing. When she catches him zoning off, she decides to poke him roughly against the forehead with the back of her mechanical pencil, which causes him to utter a soft _grunt_ of surprise.

"Are you serious? We've been over this seven times," she tells him. "You can't _actually_ be as stupid as you look."

Well, looks could be deceiving, and Oikawa would know that better than anybody.

"That's a little harsh, don't you think, _Sawa-chan_?" He pouts.

Sawa frowns, "At this rate, you're going to fail the whole class. Don't you even care about your future?"

_Of course he does_. Oikawa has been banking on his future since the day he picked up his first volleyball.

Not the kind of future Sawa is probably expecting, but he figures she wouldn't understand anyway. From what he could surmise, she always came off as a brainiac. The life of an athlete might've gone completely over her head.

"Explain to me one more time, _Sawa-chan_ ," he puts on a smile that could win anyone over.

But Sawa just rolls her eyes, shifting her gaze to the practice set on the table, "If you're not actually going to listen, then you're wasting _both_ our times."

Oikawa puts on another pout; this time, he adds the puppy-dog eyes for good measure, "Pretty please, _Sawa-chan?"_

The redhead sighs, "Please stop calling me that."

* * *

Day 203

_2am_.

Oikawa stares up at the apartment complex in front of him and exhales wisps of gray. The moon illuminates the better half of his face that he normally keeps prepared for all those photo ops.

The door opens.

Sawa's wearing a pair of candy-cane pajamas and a pair of reindeer slippers. She has no makeup on, and there are dark circles under her bright green eyes, but Oikawa wouldn't want to see her any other way.

There's something about the familiarity of her standing at the doorway that makes him happy. Had it not been for the sweat sticking to his skin, he might've even hugged her.

The thought is almost too trite for his taste, but the truth is, he's the kind of boy who's already built his persona with bad clichés and one-liners.

"Sawa-chan," he greets her in a singsong voice and tacks on a boyish smile for good measure.

"You could've called," she tells him, not even beating around the bush with proper greetings.

No matter; he doesn't expect her to. Sawa's never been the endearing type, anyway. She wears her thorns like a badge of honor.

"And it's _Sawari_ for the hundredth millionth time," she adds on at the end, even though she knows it won't change his mind.

"You never pick up your phone," Oikawa tells her.

"Yeah, because you do stuff like this," Sawa says.

"Stuff like what?"

"Like coming over to my apartment at _2am_ in the morning."

She wears a glare of half apathy, which transforms into a look of concern when she catches sight of the bruises on his arms.

"Practicing again?" She asks vaguely.

" _Mm-hmm,_ " Oikawa replies, licking his lips.

He'd spent tonight practicing his dives. It's his own self-inflicted torture—something that he does every night in fear of falling behind. The truth is, Oikawa is afraid of falling behind.

A soft sigh escapes Sawa's lips and she motions for him to enter the apartment building, where she manages to catch the elevator door with her foot before it closes.

* * *

The ride up is relatively silent. Sawa has her arms crossed over her chest, so Oikawa can only assume she's still a little pissed off. He can't blame her. It _is_ a school night, after all, and she was probably asleep when he woke her up.

When they arrive in front of her apartment, he notices the new Christmas floor mat sitting outside her door. There are two reindeer printed on either side.

She sticks the key in the lock, fidgets around, and opens the door.

It's a modest one-room apartment. A kitchenette in one corner, along with a square dining table. A queen-sized bed in the other corner. A stack of books sitting on the floor. A two seater couch. A wide screen television, alongside a bunch of jumbled cables and a gaming console. A shoe rack by the entrance.

Plastered on the walls are all sorts of paintings, some more abstract than others.

"Your dad's work?" Oikawa asks.

"Some of it," Sawa replies, smiling thoughtfully. She rests her weight on one foot and motions to up to sketch of a naked woman. "That's new."

The air is familiar, and Oikawa feels at home. Sometimes more than when he's actually home.

He slips off his sneakers, heading towards the bed, "Your parents could've picked out a bigger place for you, don't you think, Sawa-chan?"

"They don't have time," Sawa replies, her smile fading into a grimace. " _Oi_ , take a shower first before you lie down. I put on new sheets today."

Oikawa pauses, and takes a seat on the couch instead. He pats the empty space next to him and motions for her to come over.

She frowns but moves forward slowly, taking a seat next to him.

Before she can say anything, Oikawa shifts, leaning his head against her shoulder. She opens her mouth to say something, but he sighs softly, interrupting her mid-thought. Sawa stiffens.

"Just for a moment, okay?" He says softly.

She hesitates, and relents, "You should really be taking better care of yourself, Tōru."

* * *

Day 1

The days begin to countdown when Oikawa spies a pink skirt standing in a sea of white blazers and yellow sweaters outside the gates of Aobajosai High School.

It follows when he catches the gaze of a pair of startling green eyes, long red hair, and a weary frown on a pair of peach tinted lips.

"She looks cute," Oikawa says casually, tugging on the strap of his messenger bag.

"She looks like money," Iwaizumi snorts.

"That's Sawari-san," Watari says. "She just transferred in last week."

The girl with the red hair catches Oikawa's gaze, making a B line towards him. She bumps shoulders with someone on the pathway but seems indifferent as she pushes past the hordes of students making their way out the open gates.

"Ne, _ne_ —she totally looks like my type," Oikawa offers with a small grin. "Don't you think?"

The statement earns him a smack in the back of the head from Iwaizumi, which makes Watari laugh out loud.

"Oikawa-san?" The red-haired says with a slight inflection.

"Yo," he greets her by saluting with two fingers.

She hands him a white envelope and doesn't say anything else.

"Fan-mail?" Oikawa echoes vaguely, a devilish smile forming on his lips. "You're too kind."

A tick mark forms on the side of her head. "It's not _fan-mail_ ," she tells him with disgust, "it's a notice from the dean's office."

A pause. The smile vanishes from Oikawa's face.

"You've been suspended from all extracurricular activities for two weeks."

"W- _What_?" Iwaizumi exclaims, not sure whether to focus on Oikawa or the red-haired girl standing in front of them. "What do you mean— _suspended_?"

"It seems Oikawa-san failed his calculus final," she tells him as-a-matter-of-factly, shifting her gaze to the handsome brunette standing in between Iwaizumi and Watari. "Honestly, you're lucky it wasn't a month."

She turns around to leave, but Oikawa manages to grab her by the wrist, stopping her mid-step, "Oi—isn't that something you're supposed to tell me in private?"

She rolls her eyes, whipping her arm out of his grasp. She walks off indefinitely and doesn't bother looking back.

" _Yeesh_ ," Iwaizumi frowns, "what's her problem?"

"That's Sawari-san for you," Watari replies meekly. "She's really serious about her studies. Apparently, she joined the math team her first day here."

"No wonder she's on _Suda_ -sensei's good side," Iwaizumi says tartly.

"Where did she transfer from?" Oikawa asks, pocketing the envelope in his backpack. He honestly couldn't care less, but he throws out the question anyway.

"Shiratorizawa Academy," Watari replies. "Apparently, she moved here so she could be closer to family."

* * *

Day 5

With some sweet talk and a half smile, Oikawa manages to weasel himself back into volleyball practice.

It'd taken some bargaining with the calculus teacher, Suda-sensei, and a few veiled threats about being the face of Aobajosai—something not to far away from the truth—for him to actually set up a date for a retake. Oikawa will be assigned a tutor, of course, but he figures he can worry about that later.

In the meantime, he's running up and down the courts of the newly refurbished volleyball court. He relishes in the smell of fresh wax and the sound of sneakers squeaking against the clean floorboards.

"I thought you were suspended," Iwaizuimi snorts, handing him a towel after warm-ups.

Oikawa winks in reply, "Sensei decided to change his mind. No need to worry your little heart, Iwa-chan."

At that moment, the gym doors slam open, revealing the figure of a very familiar redhead standing in the doorway. Her arms are outstretched and she's staring directly at the captain of the volleyball team.

She moves forward in long strides, her knee high boots clicking against the wooden floorboard, her long beige trench coat swaying behind her. The entire gym is sitting in silence—every single team member has their eyes on her.

Iwaizumi was right. She really did look like money.

"Sawa-chan," Oikawa manages to say stiffly. "What're you—"

"I'm your new calculus tutor. Your first tutoring session is tomorrow," she snaps, "and _don't_ call me Sawa-chan."

* * *

Day 365

The cherry blossoms are blooming—they're blooming, and that might just be the cruelest twist of irony.

Sawa stares up at the fluttering petals with a half-glaze in her eyes that spells apathy, glancing over at the Aobajosai Volleyball team standing at the entrance of the gymnasium.

Oikawa is talking to a few first years with a flirtatious smile on his face. He makes a joke that makes them laugh out loud. Sawa can't hear it, but she stiffens visibly.

"Why are you even with him?"

The dark-haired boy sitting next to her narrows his gaze—he almost always has his eyes narrowed. Sawa glances at him only briefly before turning her attention to the concrete ground beneath her feet.

"Do you even care about him?"

It's not something he should care about either.


	2. Served

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa gets tutored, much to his disdain.

Day 6

_Sawa-chan [16:03]: You're late. Where are you?  
_ _Sawa-chan [16:10]: Hello?  
_ _Sawa-chan [16:12]: Answer your phone.  
_ _Sawa-chan [16:20]: You're almost an hour late, idiot.  
Sawa-chan_ _[16:30]: Yep, now you're actually an hour late._  
Sawa-chan [16:33]: Why do I feel like I'm being ignored

* * *

Sawa waits impatiently outside the gated entrance of Aobajosai High School.

Tapping her feet against the concrete pavement, she spares a glance around at the students huddled together underneath the naked cherry blossom trees, devoid of any actual flowers. Then, she checks the time on her watch. _4:37pm_.

_He's late_ , she thinks to herself. _Really late_.

More.

Than.

An.

_Hour_.

Late.

A soft sigh escapes her lips. Taking her calculus textbook, she wedges it against the brick wall surrounding the school before taking a seat on top of it. She pats her skirt down and stares into the distance blankly, reflecting on the fact that despite her _best_ intentions, she'd somehow managed to end up in this _stupid_ situation.

Another five minutes pass as the students waiting for their friends in the courtyard begin to clear out. Some of them glance down at the redhead sitting on the concrete pavement, but most of them don't bat an eyelash before moving out. They head on their merry way, filled with chatter and excitement.

"Sawari-san?"

Glancing up, she meets the gaze of a boy with a gray buzzcut. He's holding a water bottle.

A kind smile forms on his lips and he tugs on the hem of his teal pinny, "Why are you sitting on the floor? Is everything okay?"

"Oh, Watari-san. Hi," Sawa manages to utter, putting on a small smile. "You're in my English Class, right?"

He blinks, unable to mask the surprise on his face; he didn't actually expect her to remember who he is, "R-Right."

"I'm fine, by the way," she follows up, since he'd asked. "Just waiting for Oikawa-san."

"Oikawa-san?" Watari repeats the name. "He's at volleyball practice right now."

Slow realization dawns on Sawa's face, "Practice?" She echoes vaguely, glancing at the teal pinny he's wearing. "I'm guessing you're also on the team, Watari-san."

He nods, "Yep. We're on break right now. He should be in the gym. We should be finished soon, though—so if you want to wait outside, I can tell him you're—"

Sawa stands up swiftly, brushing off her skirt. She grabs the textbook lying on the floor and stuffs it in her backpack, "I think I'll go check in on him right now. Is he at the gymnasium?"

Watari, unsure if he just sold out his teammate to the angry redhead standing in front of him, bites down hard on his lower lip, "That's…right."

A tense pause fills the air and Sawa beams, shooting Watari a smile, "Thank you, Watari-san. I'm grateful you were here." Then, "I hope we get to know each other better."

With that, she turns her heel and heads towards the school.

* * *

A cacophony of chatter fills the stadium as a dozen boys wearing teal scrimmage pinnies take a seat on the freshly waxed wooden floorboards. Some of them are stretching; others are taking a water break. A few of them are going on about their schoolwork, exchanging notes and information from class.

At the center sits the Grand King of the Court: Oikawa Tōru. He's in the middle of being reprimanded by Iwaizumi over some dumb joke he'd made.

Occasionally, he glances at the balcony edge, where there's a couple female students sitting and observing. He waves at them, and they squeal with delight.

Behind them is Kaede, a second-year Oikawa is getting to know better. He has a date with her tonight and the fact that she went out of her way to show up to support him during practice makes him feel happy. Almost carefree.

_Almost_.

Suddenly, from the stairway emerges a very familiar redhead wearing a glare that probably could've killed a man.

Sawa.

Oikawa catches her gaze and feels a lump trapped in his throat.

_Freezes_.

She walks through the legion of fan-girls, heading straight down the stands until she reaches the court. Her knee-high boots click against the hardwood floors and her long beige trench coat sways behind her loosely. With a smile, she heads towards Coach Irihata. She greets him with a bow.

They exchange a few words. She's charming enough to make the coach laugh out loud. He motions to Oikawa, smiling sheepishly.

Sawa nods and heads towards his direction. The boys on the team stop and glance at her, turning nearly silent as she makes her way towards the center of the group where Oikawa and Iwaizumi are sitting.

_She looks like money_.

"Sawa-chan~" Oikawa greets her with forced enthusiasm. "What're you doing here?"

"You missed your study session," she decides to get straight to the point, grimacing at him.

When he notices that almost everyone has their eyes on him, Oikawa decides to take care of damage control.

His smile fades and he stands up to meet her eye line, leaning all his weight onto one foot, "Well, as you can see, I'm the captain of the volleyball team. I have a responsibility to uphold."

Sawa shoots him a glare, " _Responsibility_? Responsibility is showing up for tutoring, _bakayaro_."

"Ouch, that's a little harsh, don't you think?" Oikawa is mock-offended. Although in honesty, he's pretty irritated.

Iwaizumi nudges Oikawa in the rib, a smirk forming on his face, "I can take care of practice, you know."

"You know what?" Sawa says. "I don't even need to do this. Tell Suda-sensei you can find yourself a new—"

"— _Oikawa_."

Coach Irihata approaches from the distance, "You'll be sitting out today."

A tick mark forms on the side of Oikawa's face, "But—"

"That's final," Irihata remarks, sternly. "For the rest of you, break's over."

Chatter erupts from the group of boys sitting on the ground.

Iwaizumi stares at Oikawa with slight concern in his eyes, patting his friend gently on the shoulder before heading towards the nets.

Oikawa sighs, glancing at the redhead who's apparently no happier about the situation they're in.

He removes his teal scrimmage pinny, balling it in his fist as he walks off the court. Sawa follows behind him, sparing Coach Irihata a smile and bow before stepping out.

* * *

"You know, if you didn't skip out on your tutoring session today, we wouldn't be in this situation," Sawa points out as they step into the hallway of the school building.

Oikawa groans inwardly, " _Ne_ , Sawa-chan. Take a social cue. I really don't feel like being reprimanded right now."

A blush rises on Sawa's cheeks and she quickly averts her gaze to the tile floor, " _You_ take a social cue."

Noticing the red on her face, Oikawa smiles slightly, "Nice comeback."

She glares.

Oikawa moves languidly towards his locker. He catches sight of the three girls standing in front of it. One of them blushes and bolts in the opposite direction while the other two giggle and follow suit. He doesn't bat an eyelash as he begins to roll the designated code for his locker.

He opens it in one swift motion.

"You sure have a lot of fans," Sawa says, miffed by the number of presents and cards sitting inside his locker. "Doesn't it get overwhelming?"

"I'm grateful for all my fans," Oikawa responds. It takes him a moment to shuffle through the gifts and get his calculus textbook, "Hold this for me."

He hands Sawa a number of trinkets wrapped up in decorative tissue paper. She shoots him a glare as she accepts it, cradling them in her chest with her free hand.

From his backpack lodged in the back of the locker, Oikawa pulls out a small black case and puts on a pair of glasses.

Slightly surprised, Sawa blinks, " _You_ wear glasses?"

Oikawa frowns, taking back the gifts Sawa's holding and stuffing them back into his closet, "Oi—what's with that tone?"

"Nothing," she replies, rather simply. "You should wear them more often. They look good on you."

* * *

They end up at the library, pouring over practice sets for nearly two hours.

Although Oikawa is no slouch when it comes to picking up new concepts, his attention span is nearly the same as a goldfish. Whenever he's unable to grasp something quickly, he has a tendency to space out and shift his gaze outside the window. Calculus just didn't pique his interest the same way volleyball did.

"Hello?"

Sawa waves her hand emphatically in front of Oikawa's face, which makes him snap back to reality.

"Jeez. Do you _only_ think about volleyball?" She asks, unable to mask her disdain.

"What makes you think I'm thinking about volleyball?" Oikawa shoots back.

"From the dumb look on your face," Sawa tells him.

Oikawa shifts his gaze from outside the window to the irritated looking redhead sitting across from him at the table, "For your information, I'm thinking about my date tonight."

Sawa stares at him in disbelief, "So two things. Volleyball and girls."

A tick mark of irritation forms on the side of Oikawa's face.

Sawa snickers when she sees him flounder, "I'm just kidding."

Oikawa shifts his gaze. Had this been her attempt to _tease_ him?

"You transferred from Shiratorizawa Academy, right Sawa-chan?"

She glances up from the practice set she's picking out, hands it to him, "Yep."

"You must be pretty smart," Oikawa points out.

Sawa shrugs in response.

He decides to continue with a bit of small talk, "So you know about their volleyball team—"

"—I don't want to talk about it," Sawa interjects almost too quickly.

Oikawa blinks, and cocks his head to the side. He pushes his glasses up his nose bridge, observing the mask of complete and utter indifference she's wearing on her face.

Suddenly, it feels like a wall has been raised between them.

So he pauses, wondering if he should overstep his boundaries. Even though she's trying her best to remain impassive, he can tell the question causes her distress. Almost as if she's been through something traumatic. He shakes the thought off and chalks it up to the fact that she's probably being unintentionally dramatic.

"Gomen, _gomen_ , Sawa-chan," Oikawa smiles sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Could you help me with this one again?"

He motions to a question that's under the same format they've been over several times. It's a question he can probably figure out on his own, but naturally, he keeps that part to himself.

Sawa glances over, shifts her gaze, the corners of her lips tipping down to form a grimace, "Oikawa-san, we've been over this," then, with a soft sigh, she pulls out a scrap piece of paper and begins writing down the equations.

He observes her from the corner of his eye.

Long, red hair. Sharp green eyes. Today, she's wearing the designated school uniforms. A brown skirt, a beige sweater, a pressed white shirt with a red tie. She has her long trench coat hanging on the back of her chair. Iwaizumi is right; she looks like money.

"Get it?" She asks, breaking his train of thought.

Oikawa nods, putting on a small smile for the sake of reassurance.

* * *

The sun's already setting low when Oikawa and Sawa depart from school. There's some awkward silence between them that forms when there's no tutoring and math equations to buffer the conversation.

Sawa tugs on the straps of her backpack, "So. How was the session? Did you understand the concepts we covered?"

Oikawa makes the OK hand gesture and forces a smile, "It was fine. Thanks, Sawa-chan."

She frowns at the sound of _Sawa-chan_ but figures it won't be long until they get rid of each other anyway.

Glancing down at her watch, she asks, "Are you free Monday for review?"

" _Ah_ ," he sighs. "Monday's not good for me."

"Your retake is Tuesday," Sawa states dispassionately. "You're sure you can afford skipping the day before the exam?"

He pauses, and thinks it over. The truth is, he's supposed to hang out with Takeru, his nephew. But he also can't afford to fail another exam.

If he does, he might just be suspended from all after-school activities for the rest of the season.

So Oikawa relents, letting out a sigh of frustration ( _What's the old saying?_ he thinks A _stitch in time saves nine_ ), " _Fine_. But we'll have to study somewhere else."

"What do you mean?"

"I already have plans," he explains. "It'd be rude to cancel last minute, Sawa-chan."

She frowns, "Oi. You're not going to make me third wheel on a date, are you?"

When he manages to fully digest her words, Oikawa bursts out in laughter. Keeling over, he leans one hand against the gated entrance of the school. Sawa narrows her eyes, miffed by his reaction.

Once he regains his composure, wiping away the tear from the corner of his eye, "Not _those_ kinds of plans. Of course I wouldn't do that to you, Sawa-chan. What kind of person do you think I am?"

A small smile forms on her face. She opens her mouth to say something snarky, but—

"Oi—Oikawa!"

Turning around, they catch sight of the Aobajosai volleyball team heading in their direction in a sea of teal and white t-shirts. It looks like they've just finished practice. Leading the helm is Iwaizumi and walking next to him is Watari and Kindaichi.

"Oh, Sawari-san," Watari greets her with a polite smile and a wave.

She acknowledges him with a curt nod and a weak smile.

Iwaizumi glances at her briefly before shifting his gaze to Oikawa, putting a hand on his shoulder. Slightly uncomfortable, Sawa backs away when she sees the look of pure and utter contentedness on Oikawa's face.

"You haven't taken over my role completely, have you Iwa-chan~?" Oikawa asks with a grin. "Do I still have a place when I return?"

"Idiot," Iwaizumi shoots back nonchalantly. "How was your tutoring session?"

Oikawa smiles, turning around to include Sawa in the conversation, only to realize she'd already vanished.

* * *

He gets ready that night.

A pair of jeans. A simple blue t-shirt with a breast pocket. Form-fitting, but not too tight. A leather brown belt. A pair of flat sneakers.

From his pocket, he fishes out his phone and sees the array of texts he'd received earlier that day.

_Sawa-chan [16:03]: You're late. Where are you?  
_ _Sawa-chan [16:10]: Hello?  
_ _Sawa-chan [16:12]: Answer your phone.  
_ _Sawa-chan [16:20]: You're almost an hour late, idiot.  
Sawa-chan_ _[16:30]: Yep, now you're actually an hour late._  
Sawa-chan [16:33]: Why do I feel like I'm being ignored

He smiles slightly as he moves his fingers to reply.

_Oikawa [20:22]: Not ignoring you! Also, sorry I was late._  
_Sawa-chan [20:23]: The time allotted for a proper response is now over. Please try again never._  
_Oikawa [20:24]: I owe you dinner, Sawa-chan~_  
_Sawa-chan [20:25]: Do me a favor and just pass your test instead._ __  
_Oikawa [20:25]: You got it~_  
_Sawa-chan [20:26]: Wait, am I saved as "Sawa-chan" in your phone?_  
_Oikawa [20:26]: What would make you think that?  
_ _Sawa-chan [20:26]: Change it back. Now._

Kaede, the cute second year, is waiting for him at the entrance to the open marketplace. He notices she's pinned back her long black hair; she's wearing some makeup and perfume. A high waisted pink skirt and a white tank-top. It looks the same pink skirt Sawa wore on the first day of school.

A smile forms on his face and he shakes the thought off.

"You look cute, Kaede-chan," he tells her.

She blushes, "Thank you, Oikawa-kun."

He reaches out and holds her hand. Her blush deepens as they make their way towards through the marketplace together.

* * *

Day 9

Monday comes and Oikawa wakes up for an early practice session at the gymnasium. He figures he can fit in some weight-training, some good old fashioned cardio, and a shower since he managed to miss practice on Friday because of the tutoring session.

The sky isn't even lit when he steps outside his house.

Giving his backpack a light tug, he heads towards the back entrance. He plugs his ear buds into his ears and puts on some music while he pulls his bicycle from the garage. Pushing it down the street, he takes a step on one of the pedals once he has enough momentum. He throws his leg over the other side and rides down the empty road.

* * *

He's halfway to school when he catches sight of a bus in the middle of groaning to a full stop.

From the backdoor emerges Sawa, her red hair pulled up in a loose bun, a pair of pink ear buds plugged into her ears. She's carrying a cup of coffee in her hand.

Oikawa rides straight past her while she stops to sip the coffee. He's intent on reaching school as soon as possible.

When he reaches the top of the slope, he stops in his tracks and takes a quick glance back over his shoulder.

A pause.

Sawa is still staring up at the sky, cradling her cup of coffee close to her chest.

Oikawa sighs before turning back around, riding towards her, "Ohayo, Sawa-chan~"

When she catches sight of him, she unplugs an ear bud, raising an eyebrow in confusion, "Oikawa-san? What're you doing up so early?"

"Practice," he tells her. "And you?"

"Math team," she replies hesitantly. "Suda-sensei wants us to come in the morning, since everyone else has after school clubs."

"Ah," Oikawa finds this little tidbit more interesting than he'd like to admit. "Do you need a ride?"

Sawa hesitates, glancing at his bike, "On what?"

Oikawa motions to the back of his bike, where the rack is sitting.

"I think I'll walk," Sawa says, glancing down at the road.

"You sure?" He decides to ask one more time out of politeness.

She glances down at her knee high boots with the flat heel. The wind sifts through the air violently and she shuts her eyes to keep the tears from forming.

_This must be some kind of twisted fate_ she thinks to herself as she glances at the empty bike rack behind his seat again.

Slowly, she inches forward, taking a seat on the metal rack and letting her feet dangle off one side. She jolts, as the metal makes contact with her skin, "That's cold!"

"What were you expecting?" Oikawa laughs. "You should probably hold on, though."

"I think I'll be fine—"

Before she can finish her statement, he moves forward quickly, nearly knocking her off the back of the bike.

Sawa drops her cup of coffee to the ground, and wraps her arms around Oikawa's waist, her cheek pressing against his back. She stares rather longingly at the spilt cup of coffee that vanishes into the distance.

Oikawa feels the warmth radiating from her arms.

When he notices her holding on for dear life, a small smile flits to his face.

* * *

Morning practice goes by unceremoniously, as Oikawa showers off the grime sticking to his skin. It'd be helpful to have a teammate or two here, he thinks, but figures that no one in the right mind would actually come this early in the morning on their own accord.

Especially on their day off.

He dries off and slips into his school uniform. Glancing at the clock mounted on the wall, he notes that he has a couple minutes to kill before school actually starts.

* * *

Heading towards his locker, he picks out a small box of chocolates and begins to feast while meandering through the empty hallways.

He hears some commotion coming from the classroom on the opposite end so he saunters towards it, glancing through the glass windows. He sees Suda-sensei lecturing at the front of a room filled with mostly boys. And, of course, a very familiar redhead is sitting right by the entrance, leaning her head against the closet door.

Oikawa is about to make a silly face to get her attention, but decides against it at the last minute.

From the look on her face, Oikawa can tell she's tired.

It probably didn't help that she'd dropped her coffee on the way. He notices that all the questions on the paper in front of her are filled in.

_Smart girl, huh_. _I guess that's what it means to be_ _Shiratorizawa material_.

He notices a sketch on the corner of her paper.

A sketch of a boy with narrowed eyes. A stern expression. A strong jawline, thin lips.

Sawa continues outlining his hair with her pencil, shading the darker half of his face.

It takes Oikawa a moment to realize she's sketching Ushijima Wakatoshi, the captain of Shiratorizawa's volleyball team.

* * *

During his free period, Kaede meets Oikawa at the entrance of the lunchroom. He notices she's wearing the same perfume from yesterday and smiles a little, feeling a calm wave of familiarity wash over him.

"Kaede-chan~ you look really cute today," he tells her with a wink.

"You say that everyday," she blushes, smiles, and lifts up the big bag she's holding, "I made us lunch today, Oikawa-kun."

"Aw~ how nice, Kaede-chan," he tells her. "Thank you!"

* * *

Even though it's cold, they decide to eat outside in the courtyard.

Kaede is a good cook, and the fact that most of these dishes are homemade makes Oikawa feel warm inside. Even though he's no stranger to nice gifts and trinkets from his fans, it's always a nice surprise that someone would go out of their way to create something homemade for him.

"How's volleyball?" She asks him, after some silence.

"Good, as usual," Oikawa answers her enthusiastically, taking a bite of the pork katsu she has prepared in a cute pink carrying case. "We just finished a promotional tournament, so we're taking a bit of a break and training our first years."

"Oh," Kaede smiles.

He can tell she's not that interested, so he motions to the lunch set she's made for him, "How long did you spend putting this together, Kaede-chan?"

She beams, a smile forming on her face, "Not that long! I really enjoy cooking, so…it only took me a couple of hours."

Longer than he expects.

Oikawa smiles back, "I really appreciate it, Kaede-chan."

* * *

After school, Oikawa arrives at the recreational center a bit early, waiting outside alone.

He checks the digital clock on his phone. _4:00pm_.

Although the thought of having no volleyball practice puts him on edge, he's looking forward to seeing his nephew. It's been a while since he's hung out with Takeru, and he's hoping the little twerp's made improvements in his volleyball form.

He watches as Sawa approaches from the distance, her boots clicking against the gravel as she runs towards him.

" _Hello_ , Sawa-chan~" He greets her with a smile. "You're late."

"You were late last time," she snaps defensively, barely catching her breath as she arrives up the steps. "Also, what're we doing here? What is this place?"

"Don't you think you should be greeting me with _hello_ too?" Oikawa asks with a mock-pout. "And it's a recreational center."

"Recreational center?" Sawa echoes, blinking slowly. "For what?"

Despite her state of confusion, she follows Oikawa into the building, her long trench coat swishing behind her.

He pulls out his phone and checks for new messages before telling her, "We're going to see my nephew today."

"You have a nephew?" She asks.

"Yep."

As they enter the gymnasium, the air fills with chatter and excitement.

Nearly a dozen or so parents are sitting on the bleachers while their kids play on the volleyball court. Some of them are so short, they don't even reach the net. But they're energetic and excited, running up and down the freshly waxed courts. Sawa spies a couple other kids who are playing a game of kongi in the quieter part of the room.

She blanches, a blush rising onto her cheeks.

"Are you okay, Sawa-chan?" Oikawa asks.

She swallows uncomfortably, unable to hide the blush on her cheeks, "I-I'm fine!"

He arches a brow in confusion, "Your face is all red."

Sawa shoots him a glare.

"It can't be," Oikawa chuckles a little, "that you're nervous around kids, are you?"

Her glare darkens as she shifts her gaze away towards the parents sitting in the bleachers, "I'm not nervous, so you can just drop it."

"Oi, Takeru!" Oikawa calls out to kid with the buzzcut standing on the other side of the net.

Takeru's eyes light up and he jogs over, a volleyball wedged under his armpit.

"You're late, Tōru," Takeru comments blandly.

" _Tōru_?" Oikawa exclaims. "Oi. Have some respect, would you?"

"Nice to meet you, Takeru-chan," Sawa greets him a little over-enthusiastically, bowing slightly.

Takeru glances at the redhead standing next to his uncle, gives her a quick glance from head to toe, "Are you Tōru's girlfriend?"

Oikawa blanches and Sawa nearly chokes on her own saliva.

Shaking her head quickly, she tells him, "I'm his tutor," and pauses to regain composure, "Y-You can call me Sawari-san."

Takeru blinks, "Tutor?" Then, he shifts his gaze to Oikawa. "Are you failing your classes, Tōru?"

Oikawa glares at his nephew, turning his nose up, "I'm not _failing_. And it's one class."

"He failed a test," Sawa interjects.

" _One_ test," Oikawa tacks on, emphatically.

Takeru stares at the space between them before resting his gaze on Sawa, "Are you going to be playing with us today, Sawari-san?"

"Sawari-san? How come she gets _Sawari-san_ and I get _Tōru_?" Oikawa snaps, irritatedly.

The redhead cocks her head to the side, the blush slowly dying down from her cheeks, "I think your uncle needs to study, Takeru-chan."

"Oh," Takeru nods, understandingly. "I see."

"Why do I feel like I'm being ignored," Oikawa says with a frown, words ringing almost too familiar to him.

"Make sure he doesn't fail, Sawari-san," Takeru tells her firmly.

Sawa smiles and nods, while Oikawa stares down at the ground dejectedly.

* * *

After nearly an hour of studying, Oikawa Tōru declares that he has completely and _utterly_ given up, that he absolutely cannot and _will not_ digest any more practice sets. Staring at the kids playing on the volleyball court, he pouts, lamenting the fact that he was the one going over math equations while they were having the time of their lives.

Pulling out his phone from his pocket, he snaps a few pictures of Takeru, who's in the middle of practicing his serves.

"Oi, pay attention," Sawa snaps.

Oikawa pouts again, taking one last picture before slipping his phone back into his pocket. Leaning over the bleacher stands, he glances at the textbook Sawa has spread out on her lap.

"—five minutes," Oikawa claps his hands together in the form of some feigned beggar pose. " _Please_ , Sawa-chan?"

"No."

" _Pretty_ please?"

"No."

"Sawa-chan~" Oikawa stares at her, eyes wide like a puppy-dog begging for a home. " _Pleasepleaseplease_?"

It takes her a moment to consider it.

A soft sigh escapes her lips, "Fine, five mintues. I'll wait—"

Oikawa wraps a hand around Sawa's wrist, pulling her forward, "Alright, let's go!"

She blushes slightly as she's pulled towards the court Takeru is standing in.

* * *

"You have to use your wrist more," Oikawa states, positioning Takeru in the correct stance, shoulders cocked back and arms high in the sky. "Are you sure you don't want to use an underhand serve? It's a lot easier to do for a kid your height."

"Nope," Takeru answers tartly. "Your overhand jump serve looks way cooler."

"That's because _I'm_ pretty cool," Oikawa states, wearing his pride like a badge of honor.

"How can you actually say stuff like that with a straight face?" Sawa asks, rolling her eyes. Leaning against the cart filled with volleyballs, she asks, "And when can I actually see this _infamous_ overhand jump serve?"

"Come to one of our games and you can see it," he tells her, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk.

Slightly put off by the response, Sawa takes a volleyball from the basket, ducks underneath the net, and heads towards the service area on the other side.

Takeru blinks, tugging on Oikawa's sleeve.

"Tōru," he says, "I think we should get out of the way."

Before Oikawa can process what's happening, Sawa tosses the ball up into the air and slams her open palm against the body, creating an _slap_ sound that echoes throughout the gym.

The ball sails through the air, hits the net, and falls back to the ground.

Sawa blanches, "Crap."

Oikawa snorts, "How embarrassing, Sawa-chan~ Were you trying to look cool? There are other ways of getting my attention, you know."

"Like I'd want your stupid _damn_ attention," she shoots back loudly.

It's loud enough for most of the kids in the area to stare at her. _Goddamnit, I'm not supposed to curse in front of kids_ , she thinks to herself, blush rising to her cheeks.

Oikawa crosses underneath the net and heads over to Sawa, taking a ball from the basket beside her, "You really have to work on your potty mouth."

She glares at him.

Motioning for her to pay attention, Oikawa tosses the ball up into the air.

From the other side, Takeru watches as Oikawa demonstrates the proper posture—arm pulled back, hand angled slightly.

Oikawa misses the serve, his hand flying into the air a second too late.

The ball drops to the ground with a _thump_.

Sawa bursts into laughter, holding her sides as she attempts to simultaneously steady herself.

"Were you trying to look cool?" She mocks loudly, unable to stifle her laughter.

A tick mark of irritation forms on the side of Oikawa's face as he tries to quell the blush forming on his cheeks.

He takes another ball from the basket and takes a few steps back from the starting line. Sawa sits down on the ground, wiping away the tears that manage to escape from the corner of her eyes. _Ah, I haven't laughed that hard in a long time_ , she thinks to herself as she observes the boy standing in front of her.

"Oi, Takeru," Oikawa calls out. "Come to this side."

Takeru obeys, runs over, and takes a seat next to Sawa on the ground.

Tossing the ball into the air, Oikawa makes a dash forward as it falls. Jumping into the air, he slams his open palm against the ball, sending it flying across the net in a flash. It barely lands on the service line on the opposite end of the court.

" _Suge_ ," Takeru looks completely mesmerized.

Sawa watches in mild fascination, "That's pretty cool, Oikawa-san."

The difference in their reactions makes Oikawa realize something.

He thinks back to the sketch Sawa was working earlier in the morning, and he realizes she's probably seen a serve exactly, if not, better, than his own.

 


	3. Between Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa learns that the balance between friendship and romance is usually obscure.

Day 95

"This is it," Sawa says, unlocking the door to her apartment. "Sorry, it's a little messy."

Flicking on the lights reveals high ceilings with all sorts of photographs and paintings plastered over the walls. There's no uniform or consistent aesthetic, but there's something almost endearing about the chaos.

Otherwise, the apartment is relatively standard. A kitchenette in one corner. A small dining area, fitted with four mats. A living area, decked out with a wide-screen television, a couple of gaming consoles, and a black leather couch. Not the kind of apartment you'd expect from a family. Rather, it shapes up more like the apartment of someone living alone.

The bedroom is separated from the rest of the living area by a pair of sliding translucent glass doors. As Oikawa steps near the dining table, he catches Sawa's faint outline in the middle of undressing and redressing. Although he can't actually make out anything, a blush tinges his cheeks, and he quickly turns his attention away.

Sawa slides open the glass doors, wearing a much more casual ensemble. A pair of light blue pajama shorts and a long sleeve t-shirt that has _Shiratorizawa_ written in bold red letters. It's an outfit that seems almost foreign to Oikawa, since he almost always sees her trim and proper during school hours.

"You live on your own?" He asks, taking a seat on one of the mats surrounding the short dining room table. "Where are your parents?"

Sawa saunters to the kitchen, putting on a kettle of water, "Well, my dad's an artist, so he travels a lot to promote his work. Parents got divorced when I was little, so my mom lives in Tokyo."

Reaching up, she grabs a canister of tea leaves.

Unsure of how to respond, Oikawa settles on a half-baked, "Sorry," for good measure.

Sawa shrugs, "It happened a long time ago, so it doesn't bother me."

He shifts his gaze to her bedroom, where the dividing doors are ajar only the slightest bit. Her bed is queen-sized, and it's fitted with blue and white sheets. There's some kind of floral arrangement sitting on the giant chest in front of the frame—it looks like _ikebana_ , or some kind of derivative. All things considered, it seems like the kind of thing Sawa would be into.

"Are you lonely by yourself?" Oikawa asks; and when he realizes that the question might come off unlike him, he decides to tack on: "Need me to keep you company at night?"

The pot whistles and Sawa reaches out to turn off the stove. Although she's tempted to roll her eyes at the sheer cheesiness of his advances, she decides against it in the end, "I honestly can't tell whether you're trying to be genuine or not."

She fills two cups with a couple sprigs of dried green tea leaves, and pours out the boiling water.

Oikawa considers it—because, _in the end_ —he's not used to being straightforward without tacking on some mindless flirtation. Maybe it's the caricature he's become, or maybe it's the bubbliness he has practiced down to an art form; either way, he has trouble actually being direct.

"And honestly," Sawa continues, taking a seat across from him, "I have more of a problem trying not to eat out every night. I miss home-cooked food."

Oikawa's smile slowly fades into a frown as he tries not to fathom the thought of Sawa eating by herself for dinner. There's something about the image that throws him off and leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

"What does _jii-chan_ think about this?" He asks.

Arching a brow in confusion, Sawa shrugs, "Depends when he's lucid enough to remember."

Oikawa chews his lower lip and takes a deep sip of tea.

"Let's not talk about this stuff. It's depressing," she tells him, straining a smile. "What about you? What did you want to ask me before?"

* * *

 

Day 10

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you _really_ sure?"

"Yes," Oikawa sighs, parking his bike into an empty rack. "I'm _really_ sure."

Still, Sawa's persistent, "On a scale of one to ten, how sure would you say you are? Just ballpark."

"You're going to grow wrinkles if you worry too much," Oikawa tells her in a singsong tone.

The redhead tiptoes slightly to examine his face, using her hands to pin up his wispy brown bangs so she can properly gauge the space underneath his eyes, "Did you even sleep last night? Your eye bags are huge."

Oikawa swats her prying hands away, heading towards the school entrance. Sawa lowers back down on even footing and follows closely behind him, never quite letting the distance between them extend. He listens to the click of her boots against the cement floor as she races to catch up with his long strides.

"You should've rested this morning," Sawa chides, as Oikawa opens the door for her. She hesitates only briefly before stepping through. "You're pushing yourself too hard."

"You always worry your precious little heart over me," he replies, following behind her.

"You never take me seriously," she says, sighing softly before heading towards her locker.

Oikawa lets his gaze linger momentarily on the hem of her skirt as she vanishes into a different aisle. He walks to his own locker, humming a small tune as he tries to vanquish the minor feeling of guilt in his gut. The truth is, it's not that he doesn't _want_ to take her seriously—rather, it's his refusal to depart from the flirtatious persona he's built up for himself.

He's not sure how people would respond otherwise.

"We have a scrim with your school today," Oikawa calls out loudly. "Shiratorizawa."

Although they're separated by an aisle, Oikawa can hear her shuffling around. The zip as she removes her knee high leather boots. The rustling of some papers. The light _tch_ as her in-school slippers hit the ground. Even though he can't actually gauge a reaction, he surmises she must be feeling antsy.

"You keep talking like I still go there," she calls back, "when I don't."

He opens his own locker and takes out the spare pair of sneakers he has inside.

Footsteps round the corner and Sawa manifests again, holding a slice of prepackaged roll cake. She has her hands outstretched, holding the baked good as an offering. Oikawa's natural reaction is to regard it with suspicion.

When he takes too long to respond, Sawa stuffs it into his chest, "It's good bread, okay? Stop eating that nasty chocolate crap for breakfast. It won't do you any good if you're actually serious about becoming an athlete."

A pause as Oikawa attempts to digest the situation.

"It can't be that you actually… _care_ about me, Sawa-chan," he grins toothily, glancing down at the roll bread in his hands.

"Don't push your luck," she snaps right back.

Quickly, he grabs his workout clothes and slams his locker door shut, holding the roll bread on top of the pile.

They walk together towards the gymnasium. Opening the transparent bag, Oikawa breaks off a small piece of bread and pops it into his mouth. Meanwhile, Sawa's sorting through the small stack of paper in her arms, holding her pencil in her mouth.

Oikawa can only surmise she's there for another early math team session.

"Why did you transfer from Shirtorizawa, Sawa-chan?" He asks noncommittally—because he's genuinely curious, but not actually confident enough to display it.

As he chews on the bread, he realizes it's pretty good. It's freshly baked, and it strikes the right balance between sweet and savory. Although it isn't necessarily the healthiest option, it's better than biting cavities on the chocolate treats he stashes in his locker.

"It's a long story," Sawa yawns, tucking her pencil behind her ear.

"We have time," Oikawa replies, motioning to the clock mounted on the wall. 6 _:20_ am. Another ten minutes before morning club activities actually start. "Was it because of a boy?"

"No, although I'm not surprised someone like _you_ would automatically assume that," the redhead practically snorts at the idea. "It's because of family stuff."

They reach the main hallway of the school, devoid of any actual students or teachers. As they head towards the math wing, Oikawa notes, with a little bit of disdain, that he's ventured off his original path towards the gymnasium. It's something that seems strangely inappropriate, considering the fact that he has a girlfriend. But he manages to convince himself it means nothing.

"I see," he notes that this seems to be a rather touchy subject, so he decides it'd be in their best interest to skirt around the heaviness. "So… _was_ there a boy in your last school?"

And lets the thought pass without letting his mind rest on it.

"Of course," Sawa answers. Surprisingly, the question doesn't throw her off. "We're in high school, so it's only natural."

Oikawa blinks, unable to predict her random candidness, "Really? What was he like?"

"The standard. Tall, dark, and handsome," she answers indifferently. "Not that smart, but straightforward and honest. You know—he had a good sense of…"

"—humor?" Oikawa offers.

"More like self-preservation," Sawa tells him.

Oikawa regards this with a silent _hmm_. Noting the look on her face, she might've still been in love with the guy. Or infatuated. He bets on the latter.

"Sawa-chan. It sounds like you might be in love with me," he coos. Another bit of mindless flirtation that seems appropriate, given the circumstance.

The redhead stares at him incredulously, "Your ego is incredible."

"Thank you~"

"That's not a compliment." Sawa lets her gaze linger on him only a bit longer before she decides to turn the conversation, "By the way, good luck on your retake today. I have faith in you, so pass with flying colors, okay?"

Another pause; Oikawa takes a second to digest her words, "You got it, Sawa-chan."

With that, she vanishes into one of the nearby classrooms, leaving Oikawa alone in the hallway. Still stunned by the random compliment (knowing that it's not something she gives out easily), a faint smile forms on his face. He turns back around and heads towards the gymnasium.

* * *

Day 95

"Can I stay over tonight?"

Sawa pauses—peers over at Oikawa from her cup of tea. Although her face doesn't read disgust or disinterest, he sees there's a bit of uncertainty in her pretty green eyes that's otherwise undeniable. She places the cup back onto the table and glances down at the tinged green liquid.

"I thought we agreed we're friends," she says vaguely, lifting her gaze.

Oikawa puts on his best smile, "Friends let friends stay over, right?"

* * *

Day 10

Oikawa stares out the window absentmindedly, tapping his pencil against the top of his desk. Suda-sensei peers over his newspaper occasionally to check on his student's progress. But for the most part, he seems undeterred, far more interested in what's going on outside. Not surprising, considering the retake is in the middle of his lunch period.

After handing in his test paper, Oikawa spares Suda-sensei a smile and tacks on a _thanks_ for the sake of politeness. Then, he heads out.

He stifles a yawn as he peruses aimlessly through the hallways. Stretching his arms out wide, he manages to iron out the kinks in his neck.

As he nears his destination, he catches sight of Kaede, who's sitting at the front of her classroom, eating with two of her friends.

A few tables behind her is Sawa, who's surrounded by a moderate sized group of her peers. She's explaining something emphatically, constantly motioning with her hand gestures. It earns some laughter, and even a pat on the back, which makes her grimace. Still, she seems to be enjoying herself.

Oikawa realizes he's let his stare linger a bit too long and he turns his attention back to Kaede, who catches his gaze. A frown forms on her lips and she excuses herself from her friends and exits the classroom.

"Kaede-chan~" He greets her with a smile.

"Oikawa-kun," her greeting is stiff.

"Yo. How's lunch?" He asks her. "Sorry I couldn't make it in time. I just finished the retake and—"

A slight blush forms on her cheeks and she huffs slightly before interjecting, "You told me to wait outside for you yesterday."

Realization dawns on Oikawa's face as the memory comes back to him, "Ah, sorry. I stayed late—"

"—at volleyball practice," she finishes for him, her eyes glistening. "I know. I waited an hour for you before I realized. You could've texted me."

As fate would have it, the bell rings, signaling the end of their lunch period. Oikawa puts on a strained smile. He's unsure of exactly how to respond, so he strokes her cheek because he figure it's the kind of thing that'll make her feel better, "I'll make it up to you, okay? Just wait a bit longer for me, Kaede-chan."

* * *

Day 95

"Okay."

Oikawa blinks. Twice.

There's no blush or look of uncertainty on Sawa's face anymore—no signs of hesitation, no signs of reluctance. Instead, she stands up from the dining table and heads towards her bedroom, where she pulls out a spare towel from one of the higher shelves.

"Did you bring a toothbrush?" She asks.

He glances at the bag he packed earlier in the day and shakes his head, "You're not…upset, Sawa-chan?"

She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, "Don't, okay? If you keep asking, I might just change my mind."

At this, Oikawa clamps his mouth shut.

It's his first time staying anywhere outside his own bedroom (aside from camp, of course). Although it isn't the kind of situation he'd expected to be in when sharing a room with a girl for the first time, he'd have to accept his fate—and the fact that things couldn't always live up to his expectations.

The truth is, he'd always been somewhat of a romantic.

From the corner of his eye, he catches sight of what seems to be some black lettering on Sawa's upper left shoulder. She's currently leaning over the table to grab her phone, which had been discarded on the ground. Had it not been for her loose long sleeve, he might've mistaken it for nothing at all.

"You have a tattoo, Sawa-chan?"

She pauses, stuffing her phone into the small pocket of her shorts, "Yeah, it's stupid."

"Let me see," he reaches forward.

Smacking his prying fingers away, Sawa—a bit unwillingly—pulls down the collar of her long-sleeve t-shirt to reveal a small portrait of an arrow, barely noticeable. It's no bigger than a finger.

"I thought I was being deep, since it meant something like _looking toward the future_ ," she laughs bitterly, rolling her eyes. "But it's just another stupid cliché. So don't judge me."

Unhooking her thumb from her collar, the shirt snaps back into place, blocking the tattoo from view. Sawa heads back into her bedroom and crouches down in front of her bed.

"I don't think it's stupid," Oikawa tells her, standing up. "I'm sure your parents gave you hell for it, though."

"Like I mentioned before, my dad's an artist, so he didn't really care," Sawa replies rather tartly, unable to hide the smile from her face. "Jii-chan beat the crap out of me though."

He follows her trail into the bedroom, where he finds her fiddling with the bottom drawers attached to her bed. She has her brows furrowed, and she's chewing anxiously on her lower lip, which means she's actually exerting some effort into what she's attempt to do.

When she finally manages to pry the drawer open, she fishes out an unopened toothbrush still in its plastic packaging.

Glancing up to meet his gaze, she tosses the toothbrush to him.

Oikawa catches it with ease, "I brought my own, but thanks. I can keep this one here when I stay over again."

Sawa perks up slightly when she hears the latter half of his reply, but attempts to disregard it.

Instead, a half smile forms on her lips as she stands up, kicking the lower drawer shut with her foot, "Well, there's not much to do here. We could watch some TV. Play some video games. I could make us dinner."

Oikawa takes a seat on the edge of her bed and beckons her over, "Come here, Sawa-chan~"

He puts the empty space next to him. As fate would have it, she considers it, only momentarily.

"I don't bite~"

Sawa laughs at the sheer absurdity of the situation, "You really do say the lamest things, you know."

* * *

Day 10

"I believe in all of you."

Standing at the opposite end of the volleyball net is Shiratorizawa, with Ushijima standing at the helm.

Oikawa gives Iwaizumi a reassuring slap against the shoulder—then, he gives Watari a curt nod of acknowledgment. They step onto the court, their sneakers squeaking in unison against the floorboards. Although it's just another practice scrim in the grand scheme of things, Oikawa sees this as another valuable experience to gain necessary insight against his most revered—his most _feared_ enemy.

Ushijima stares sternly ahead, sparing a few words to his teammates.

More fans than usual are lined up in the stands. Oikawa glazes over them with relative apathy.

"Just like practice," says Irihata-sensei, putting on a smile for good measure.

"Remember to always reset back to position," Mizoguchi, the younger assistant coach, tacks on at the end. "Good luck!"

* * *

They lose in spectacular fashion, despite everything. They don't have the quick-wittedness of Nekoma, and they don't have the brute strength of Fukurodani. At the end of the day, Aobajosai is outmatched in nearly every role—a bunch of ragtag bandits fighting against the armored knights of Shiratorizawa.

"Good game," Ushijima reaches a hand out from underneath the net.

"You too," Oikawa seethes through gritted teeth, shaking his hand with reluctance.

* * *

The locker room is completely silent afterwards.

This time, Iwaizumi's the one who gives Oikawa a pat on the shoulder, "Oi, don't go feeling sorry for yourself."

Oikawa puts on a thousand-watt smile he has practiced down to near perfection, "Are you worried about me, Iwa-chan?"

It earns him a slap on the side of the head, which causes the rest of the locker room to erupt into laughter. It's the kind of strange antic that clears the air of the foul mood after a painful loss. And Oikawa accepts his role as the jester, albeit unwillingly, if it means he can cheer up his team.

* * *

When he steps outside, the sky's already black. A mild drizzle pours down from above, which prompts him to open his umbrella.

There's a small group of fans still waiting outside for him with an array of colorful posters and knick-knacks. Behind them group is a very familiar looking redhead with a piece of paper in her own hands.

Sawa.

She seems to catch his gaze, a smile lighting up her face. Quickly, she steps through the group of fans and dashes forward, the drizzle catching onto her damp red hair. She runs— _runs straight past him_.

Oikawa pauses mid-step and watches as she approaches the group of Shiratorizawa players who are waiting outside the entrance of the gymnasium.

She hands a piece of paper to Ushijima, which makes him blush slightly. _A blush for God's sake_ Oikawa thinks bitterly to himself, knowing that it's probably the sketch she made of him the other day.

Without much resolve, Oikawa heads towards the group of fans and thanks them for waiting in the rain. He accepts their tokens of appreciation—some cookies, some hand-written letters, and some pictures they've taken of him.

Oikawa glances back over his shoulder to see a giant coach bus pull up in front of the entrance. Ushijima is the last one standing outside—he gives Sawa a light pat on the shoulder. She's smiling up at him, and he says a few words to her that makes her laugh out loud.

_Ushiwaka with a sense of humor?_ Oikawa thinks to himself. _What a joke_.

When Sawa catches sight of Oikawa, her eyes light up. She darts back to Ushijima, bids him farewell with a slight bow, and runs towards Seijoh's volleyball team, hugging another folded up piece of paper in her arms.

"Ta-da!" She calls out loudly, unraveling the piece of paper in one swift motion to reveal Oikawa's calculus retake. "You passed!"

In the top right corner, there's a _97_ written in bold red lettering. Not bad, all things considered. The truth is, when Oikawa actually applies himself, he's able to accomplish a lot more than he expects.

Next to him, Iwaizumi gives him a nudge in the side, "Nice job, _shittykawa_. You actually did it."

"Jeez, we had no clue you had it in you," Matsukawa states blandly, glancing at the paper. "Pretty high score too."

"This is rather unexpected," Watari murmurs softly.

" _97_?" Kindaichi exclaims. "What a score."

"Oi—did everyone think I was going to fail again?" Oikawa snaps irritatedly, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

"Yes," a uniform answer from nearly every single person the team.

Oikawa snatches the test paper from Sawa's hands, crumpling it up and stuffing it into his athletic bag.

"I knew you were going to pass," she interjects suddenly, completely unabashed. "So have faith in yourself, you idiot."

Iwaizumi stares at her incredulously, along with the rest of Seijoh's remaining volleyball team. There's a moment of tense silence, where everyone—including Oikawa—is just staring and trying to digest the fact that one— _she actually believed Oikawa was going to pass_ and two— _she actually believed that Oikawa was going to pass_.

"Incredible," Iwaizumi is the first one to speak out. "You actually found someone who says things that rival your cheesiness."

Both Sawa and Oikawa, completely red-faced, glance at each other before turning away irritably. Although the latter is still in shock at the lack of faith from his team, he can't help but feel a bit of satisfaction, despite the incredibly embarrassing loss to Shiratorizawa.

* * *

Day 95

After changing into his pajamas—a pair of navy pinstripe pants and a light blue t-shirt—Oikawa heads back into the living room to see Sawa sprawled out on the couch, hair pinned up in a messy ponytail.

Putting on his glasses, he pulls out a book from his athletic bag and flips to the main page he doggy-eared. Then, he flops down on the bed and begins to read. Sawa glances quickly over from the television screen, where she's playing some random gruesome zombie game.

"What're you reading?" Sawa asks.

"A book for class," Oikawa's answer is terse; simple.

She snorts, "You actually read? I thought you were the type to look up guides online or something."

He wrinkles his nose in distaste, "Why do you always have the worst image of me?"

Sawa shifts her attention back to her video game, where she manages to pry off one particularly vicious zombie from her character. The screen is constantly flashing red, and from what Oikawa can surmise, that probably means she's going to die soon.

"You look different with your glasses," she states simply.

Oikawa shrugs, turning his attention back to his book.

There's some off-putting music from the game, some screams, and ultimately, the screen fades to red. Not that it matters to him. It's just that he remembers she's mentioned she's beaten this game and unlocked all its trophies. He just figured she'd be better versed at it.

Suddenly, she pauses, and stands up. Turning around, she heads towards the bed where Oikawa's lying down on his stomach.

"Sawa-chan?" He echoes, absolutely no resolve in his tone.

Putting one knee on the bed to leverage herself, she straddles him and puts her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. Their faces are so close, they might touch—he's so close to giving in.

Sawa's fingers inch up to his neck until she reaches the back of his head.

Then, she pulls him in, and kisses him.

The kiss is short and sweet, and she pulls back almost as quickly as she dives in. Oikawa stares at her with wide eyes, his cheeks completely flushed red.

"I know I shouldn't—"

But before she can finish her train of thought, Oikawa interrupts her with another kiss, pulling her closer. Her frame feels small against him, and there's something alarmingly fragile about how she feels against his touch. Like he could crush her if he's not careful enough.

Sawa tastes sweet, like a little bundle of spirit and determination he'd never actually removed his sight from. His hands wind up in her silky red hair, and his eyes flutter slightly when she pulls him closer. She shifts against him, her hands wandering to the lower half of his body, playing with the hem of his shirt.

They pause, pulling away, both of them red in the face from the excitement of venturing into new territory of their relationship. Oikawa knows this is wrong, but he can't actually admit to it feeling wrong.

" _Friends do this, right_?" Sawa asks quietly.

Oikawa opens his eyes.

A wad of dried spit is stuck to the side of his mouth, and his book is hanging precariously from the edge of his bed. Pushing himself up, he glances around the nearby vicinity, where he finds Sawa on the couch, playing the same zombie game.

"Oh, you're awake," she comments nonchalantly. "You twitch a lot in your sleep."

The kiss. Oikawa's lets his finger linger on his lower lip. _What a cruel dream_ …

Sawa turns off the TV and walks over with her Nintendo 3DS, plopping down next to him in bed. Their shoulders touch.

She opens the gaming console and glances briefly at his face, "You also drool in your sleep."

He blanches, but Sawa uses her sleeve to wipe away the remaining drool still stuck to the side of his face. Then, she shifts her attention to her gaming console, where she's currently engaged in an online battle.

Slowly, he returns his attention back to his book, where he finds the paragraph he left off. The same paragraph he started with. A soft sigh escapes his parted lips.

They lie together in silence, but there's no tension there. It's strange—he thinks—how comfortable he feels.

* * *

 

Day 16

Monday morning.

Like clockwork, Sawa exits the back of the bus—this time, she has a black circle scarf wrapped around her neck, covering half of her face. Oikawa notices that she's holding another cup of coffee close to her chest.

She meets his gaze, and a smile forms on her lips as she waves her hand enthusiastically, "Sorry! Did you wait long?"

"Good morning to you too, Sawa-chan," Oikawa says casually, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge.

She cocks her head and glances at the empty rack behind his bike seat only briefly before taking a seat. Almost immediately, she jolts up, "Holy—that's _cold_!"

"You say that every time," he throws his head back and laughs.

As he continues forward on the path, Sawa tugs at the hem of his blazer to maintain her precarious balance, "We've been seeing a lot of each other recently, haven't we?"

"Maybe you should stop stalking me, Sawa-chan," Oikawa suggests.

The comment doesn't make her blush. Instead, she sighs, "You really shouldn't say that kind of stuff to other girls when you have Kaede-chan."

At this, he hesitates, and averts his gaze to the road ahead.

"Even if it is some kind of mindless flirtation," Sawa tacks on at the end.

He hits a rather rough bump, which causes Sawa to drop her coffee to the ground. An unceremonious event, but it's something she should've expected, given the circumstances. A soft sigh escapes her parted lips as she glances up at the boy who's biking her to school.

"If you really cared about Kaede-chan," Oikawa says, "then wouldn't you stop hitching a ride with me to school?"

It takes her a moment to properly digest his words. The fact that he'd acknowledged whatever was going on between them. Initially, she thought it was a mindless and mundane part of his character—all signs pointed to it being that way.

But.


	4. 12am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No such thing as half-measures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this story will last two more chapters and then end~ this part was mostly inspired by something that actually happened to my floormate in college ;~; I also wanted to riff on the whole "Kuroo looks dark, twisty, and dangerous" trope that appears in a lot of fanfic

Day 274: _5:00am_

"State your full name and occupation."

Sitting on the bench in the claustrophobic tiled hallway, Iwaizumi glances up. Unable to hide the look of complete and utter disdain written all over his face, he shifts his gaze from the officer standing in front of him to a random corner of the emergency room, where he finds someone getting their face stitched up. Anxiously, he fiddles with the paper cup in his hands, testing to see if he can get the remaining contents of his coffee to swirl around in a circle.

"Iwaizumi Hajime. I'm a student."

"From?" The officer asks, scribbling down a few notes in his clipboard.

"Seijoh."

"Date of birth?"

Iwaizumi wrinkles his nose, looking completely unimpressed, "Oi, Nobu-san. Let's cut the bullshit. You know who I am."

"It's standard protocol," the man replies with a soft sigh. "Sorry."

* * *

_5:23am_

Oikawa stares ahead at the clock mounted against the tile wall. The _ticks_ are winding down, but it doesn't actually seem like time is moving.

The brunette manages to stifle a sigh, propping his elbow on his thigh, and pressing his chin into his palm. It's been nearly an hour since they've arrived at the hospital, and he has no clue when he'll actually be able to see Sawa. He's beginning to realize he probably won't be able to see her until the morning.

"Is she okay?" He asks.

Nobu flips through a few pages of his clipboard, "She's fine right now, but her blood work showed a date rape drug in her system. You have any way of contacting her family?"

Oikawa bites down on his lower lip, "No. Her dad's overseas right now…and her mom lives in Tokyo. Wait—what date rape drug?"

The officer relents a sigh, massaging the back of his neck with his free hand, "Ketamine. Combined with alcohol, it was the reason why she collapsed. Do you know if she has any other relatives? Uncles? Aunts? Grandparents? Anyone you know we can contact?"

"Her grandfather…" Oikawa trails off, shifting his gaze to his feet.

"Hm?"

"Never mind," the brunette brushes the thought off quickly. "Just put me down as her guardian. I'm her boyfriend."

"You know that's not how this works right?" Nobu stares disinterestedly at his clipboard. "They don't list minors as guardians."

* * *

_5:45am_

The dark-haired boy sitting on the floor stares ahead into blank space, wondering _how the hell_ he deserved a fate like this at this time of night. What had started as a simple trip to Miyagi to scrim with _Karasuno_ winded up turning into a complete and utter mess.

Meeting the police officer's gaze, he asks for what seems like the millionth time, "Is she okay?"

Nobu simply glances through his notes, "You could make this easier on yourself."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you need to be compliant and answer the questions," the officer states blandly, stifling a yawn. "Kuroo Tetsurou. Student from Tokyo. Captain of Nekoma's volleyball team. Is there any reason why you were out so late on a practice trip?"

"I take college classes in Tokyo," Kuroo replies tartly. "I took the bullet train from Tokyo to Miyagi after classes were over—arrived here around 12 o'clock at night."

"And what's your relationship with," Nobu flips over another page of his notes. "Sawari Setsuna?"

"She's an acquaintance," Kuroo answers.

"And you just _happened_ to find her in the street?"

"Like I said before, I got off the train station and saw her just standing around nearby," Kuroo tells him stiffly. "I gave her my jacket because I thought she might be cold, and then she collapsed."

"Her blood test came back positive with ketamine," Nobu continues, using his pen to mark down something in his notes, "and the timing lines up with—"

"—am I being accused of something?" Kuroo interjects.

* * *

_6 hours earlier_ …

_Oikawa [11:01pm]:_ Sawa-chan, pick up your phone~ _  
Oikawa [11:01pm]:_ Everyone is worried. You haven't been to school in a week. I'm starting to feel lonely.  
 _Oikawa [11:02pm]:_ Even Iwa-chan has been asking about you.  
 _Oikawa [11:02pm]:_ Sawa _-_ chan _?_  
 _Oikawa [11:05pm]:_ Hello _?_  
 _Oikawa [11:05pm]:_ Hellooooooooo _?_  
 _Oikawa [11:05pm]:_ Hellooooooooooooooo _?_  
 _Oikawa [11:06pm]:_ Sawa _-_ chan  
 _Oikawa [11:06pm]:_ Am I being ignored? T_T

The vibration from her phone proves to be a momentary distraction, but Sawa only spares it a brief glance before returning her attention to the empty streets of Miyagi. Wisps of white escape her parted lips as she exhales and she hugs shut the lapels of her black fur coat, covering her exposed abdomen with her arms.

Taking another swig from her nearly empty bottle filled with cheap vodka, she continues down the main street, completely disregarding the oncoming traffic. The blare of the sirens manage to awaken her only momentarily, but she breezes past them, taking dainty steps, and skipping across the crosswalk without a care.

When she arrives on the other side, she manages to bump roughly against the base of the cross light. Muttering an apology to the inanimate metal object, she continues forward, staring at the nearby hole in the wall restaurants with disdain.

" _Sawa-chan_ ~!"

Glancing up, she catches sight of three very familiar faces.

Daisuke, Jun, and Keiko. Old friends from Shiratorizawa.

The latter is the first to run up, tugging at the hem of Sawa's fur coat, and hugging her until she can't breathe. Daisuke and Jun follow up afterwards, the former giving her a curt nod of acknowledgment, and the latter ruffling her hair.

A single cigarette dangles from the corner of Daisuke's lips, and he exhales smoke circles with his lips formed in an _O_.

"You smell drunk," Jun states, wrinkling his nose. "Start without us?"

Sawa just smiles, lifting up the nearly empty water bottle she'd brought along, "I got bored on the way here."

"Nice outfit," Daisuke glances at her over the rim of his sunglasses. "You trying to catch flies or what?"

"Who cares? She's got some nice kittens," Keiko admonishes thoughtfully, tugging at the hem of Sawa's black lace bralette underneath the fur coat. "It's good to experiment with fashion. We're not judging, Sawa-chan."

"Thanks," the redhead says with a smile.

"Let's get going," Keiko chides, pulling a small metal canister from the breast pocket of her pink peacoat. "Take some of this, Sawa-chan~ you look like you're running on empty."

* * *

Day 100

"You _really_ don't have to do this."

"I want to," Oikawa says, and actually means it.

Sawa sighs, pulling open the glass door of the nursing home.

Oikawa saunters through, while Sawa follows up in quick strides, signing in at the front entrance. Meanwhile, the brunette bends down to remove his shoes, placing them on the rack by the front desk before walking towards the main living space.

"It's a good day for him," the receiving nurse tells Sawa at the front entrance. "He's lucid."

The redhead exhales a sigh of relief, "That's good to hear."

There's a cooking program playing in one corner and a small recreation area available in another corner. Sawa is the first to walk ahead, turning into a nearby corridor. Oikawa does a light jog to keep up with her, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

There are several rooms that line up the hallway, and Oikawa glances only briefly through some of the open doors until he returns his gaze back on the redhead walking in front of him. Pausing suddenly at the end of the hallway, she knocks on the open door at the end.

Glancing in, Oikawa sees an old man with a head full of white hair reading a book in bed.

Peering over the edge of his glasses, the old man smiles when he catches sight of Sawa.

"Jii-chan," the redhead skips through the entrance, leaving her briefcase by the doorway.

" _Setsuna_ ," her grandfather pushes himself up. "You look like you've grown taller."

She gives him a hug, and mentions something about the book he's reading that Oikawa can't quite make out.

Glancing around the room, he notices a line of paintings and sketches by the old man's bedside table. Oikawa automatically assumes it's by Sawa's father, but upon closer inspection, he notices that the name in the corner of each work is no doubt hers.

There's a portrait of children playing in a rye field, a painting of the sky in acid tones, and an abstract sketch of a naked woman wearing a crowd of thorns. Oikawa is no expert on art, but it seems like her work isn't quite cohesive yet. There's no consistency, and yet, he can't deny her talent.

_'Guess Sawa's a lot like her father_ ,' Oikawa thinks to himself, ' _If she has the art gene_.'

"This is Oikawa-san," Sawa motions to the entrance, where the brunette is still standing with a rather dumb look on his face. "He's a classmate from school."

Oikawa puts on a polite smile and bows, "Jii-chan~ nice to meet you."

"He's not my boyfriend," Sawa tacks on.

"I didn't say he was," her grandfather eyes the brunette with relative indifference. "Though he seems like your usual type."

"Jii-chan," Sawa snaps with warning, narrowing her eyes.

"Her type?" Oikawa's interest seems to be piqued. "So she has a type. Do tell, jii-chan."

"Addressing me so informally. You the local idiot around here or something?" The old man snaps, grabbing the glass of water sitting on his night stand, glancing over at Sawa. "He anything like the rest of your old friends?"

Oikawa blanches.

Although her grandfather's reaction is not visceral, it's enough to make Oikawa scowl. His charm is usually a surefire means to win over anyone, and the fact that he's managed to fail the first time around is rather alarming to him.

"No, jii-chan," a sad smile forms on Sawa's face. "He's one of the good ones."

"I'll know it when I see it."

"Besides," the redhead brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, trying to turn the subject, "you and I both know I don't actually have a type. So please don't give him the wrong idea."

"Oh please. You do have a type," her grandfather stares at her with half-lidded eyes. "And it's the stupid type."

Oikawa attempts to stifle his laughter, but a grunt manages to make its way through his pursed lips.

Sawa shoots him a glare that could probably kill a man, and he shifts his gaze inauspiciously to the ceiling, where he manages to find a rather interesting stain in the corner to latch his attention to.

"And what're you laughing at?" The old man places the glass of water back onto the table. "You're in that category, dimwit."

* * *

"I'll be back tomorrow, Jii-chan," Sawa smiles, plopping a kiss onto the old man's forehead. "Rest up."

"That's all they have me do in this place," he replies sullenly, grabbing his book from the nightstand, and glancing quickly over some of the watercolor paintings. "When you get a chance, bring me another sketch, Setsuna. It's been a while since you've drawn something."

"Sure," Sawa replies noncommittally, fiddling with the buttons of her coat.

"I'll be back tomorrow too, jii-chan~" Oikawa interjects in a singsong voice.

The old man's smile fades into a frown almost immediately, "Ah, of course. Bring the dunce."

Oikawa's smile fades into a sullen scowl.

Sawa lets her gaze linger on the brunette a brief moment before turning her attention back to her grandfather, "Be nice, jii-chan."

"Yeah, _yeah,_ " the old man seems undeterred.

"I'll sign us out first," the redhead states, glancing at her watch. "Grab my briefcase for me, would you, Oikawa-san?"

With that, Sawa steps out of the room, while Oikawa is left to retrieve her carelessly discarded briefcase by the entrance of the door. The old man clears his throat, which catches the teen's attention as he manages to link his fingers through the handle.

"Oi. Dunce, come here."

Oikawa regards the old man with slight suspicion, but obeys nonetheless, and walks over to his bedside.

"I don't know what your intentions are," he states, "but I can tell you right now, Setsuna's in a good place, and she didn't move out here just to be bogged down. Getting out of Shiratorizawa was good for her."

The brunette regards the statement with contempt, but masks his irritation with another smile, "I can assure you my intentions are only pure, jii-chan. Sawa-chan and I are just friends."

The old man's gaze is unrelenting. Persistent, almost.

He clears his throat before continuing, "That girl is way too good for you."

A frown forms on Oikawa's face, and he lowers his gaze to the floor. Although it's not the kind of warning he wants to hear, there's something about it that resonates with him.

So Oikawa nods, his knuckles fading white as his grip tightens on the handle of Sawa's briefcase. With a low bow and a halfhearted _goodbye_ for good measure, he intends to depart immediately.

But he pauses by the doorway.

"I know that," Oikawa says quickly before heading into the corridor.

* * *

"You're being really quiet. It's _weird_."

Tugging on the strap of his satchel, Oikawa regards the comment with apathy.

He puts on a smile, brushes his hair back slightly, and meets Sawa's gaze, "It's really cute when you worry about me, Sawa-chan."

The redhead purses her lips and kicks up some dust from the road, "You're not taking me seriously."

Oikawa stares ahead, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He's unable to take his mind off the words that are still resonating inside him.

_That girl is way too good for you_.

"I just have some things on my mind," he says. "It's nothing serious."

Sawa frowns, "You weren't like this before we visited jii-chan."

He hates how intuitive she is. Sometimes, he wishes Sawa didn't work so hard to pry past the pretense he's made for himself.

"Oi. Tooru."

At the sound of his name, his head perks up.

Glancing down, he sees that concern is clouding Sawa's pretty green eyes. There's this undeniable determination in her gaze that makes it hard for him to throw out another cheesy line to turn the conversation. (In the end, she just _doesn't_ seem like that kind of girl)

"He said I wasn't good enough for you," Oikawa says.

"Jii-chan doesn't think anyone is good enough for me," Sawa tells him, looking unsurprised.

A pause.

"He told me to keep away from you."

Tension fills the air as they continue walking down the main road together in silence.

Sawa's staring at the ground, and Oikawa is trying to gauge some kind of reaction because, after all, this is the kind of girl who usually wears her heart on her sleeve. He only wishes she were easier to read, and less inclined to close herself off when she hears something she doesn't want to hear.

"You know why I left Shiratorizawa?" Sawa says suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Family stuff. Your grandfather," Oikawa replies.

They continue walking in silence while Sawa stares off into the distance with a scowl on her face.

"I was kicked out."

_'Kicked out?'_

The thought never even crossed Oikawa's mind—well, because she'd always seemed unbearably _uptight_ and in control of her own decisions. In an attempt to gauge some kind of reaction from her expression, Oikawa stares at her intently, causing her to shift her gaze elsewhere away from his gaze.

"I fell in with the wrong crowd, got in trouble, and I was kicked out," Sawa admits. "Bonus point? I confessed to Ushijima-kun and got rejected the same day. Said I wasn't serious enough, which was probably true at the time."

Oikawa continues walking, noting the story with a bit of disdain. It seems like the kind of reaction Ushijima would give, but the fact that she's trying to turn the subject, or relate in her own way makes his blood boil.

He tries to avoid letting his attention linger on the fact that she's still addressing him as _Ushijima-kun_ , when all he gets is "Oikawa-san" in the presence of friends and family, or "Tooru" when they're alone. No cutesy honorifics, no romantic gestures of good faith. It makes it difficult for him to evaluate their relationship.

Maybe it's the fact that he's human, and _selfish_ , and he's unable to come to terms with the fact that he doesn't represent the ideal he initially thought he was.

In the end, he just needs to know what Sawa's thinking.

Suddenly, he feels a pair of warm warms wrap around him from behind. Even though he's rather built, Sawa manages to snake her arms around his torso and link her fingers together. Pressing her cheek against his back, they halt in the middle of the empty road.

"I don't care what other people say," Sawa says stiffly. "I've already made up my mind about you, okay?"

A soft sigh of relief escapes his lips. Oikawa loses himself in the moment only for only a second. He thinks, and it might be the paranoia talking, that if he blinks too fast, he might just forget this altogether. And it might just be another figment of his imagination.

"You're really cute when you worry about me, Sawa-chan," he tells her airily.

She just tightens her grip around his waist and closes her eyes.

* * *

Day 274: _12:03am_

Pressing her forehead against the cool surface the building by the train station, Sawa smiles. She wipes away the drool stuck to the corner of her lips, walking underneath blinking street light by the train station. Using her fingernails, she tugs at the hem of her lace bralette, letting the sleeve of her black fur coat hang precariously over her shoulder.

Exhaling white, she shivers, letting the cold breeze kiss her skin while she takes another swig of cheap alcohol from the canister Keiko lent her earlier on.

It tastes like whiskey, but she can't really tell the difference between the burns in her throats anymore.

"Oi, you okay?"

Quickly glancing over her shoulder, she meets the gaze of a tall, dark-haired boy who couldn't have been more than eighteen. Judging from the uniform underneath the long black peacoat, he was probably still in high school. A look of concern crosses his face when Sawa doesn't respond immediately.

"Hi there," Sawa says, or slurs. "Are you in high school?"

Slightly miffed by the compliment, the dark-haired boy cocks his head to the side, "You look familiar."

"Do I?" Sawa shoots back.

The boy scratches the back of his head, disregarding the random bit of flirtation, "Have we met before?" Realization suddenly dawns on his face, and he snaps his fingers. "Ah, you were the one with Oikawa-san last time. Sawari-san, right?"

Sawa's smile just fades into a grimace as she leans against the wall. Due to her current incapacitation, she's unable to actually put a name to a face, even though she wants to admit he looks pretty familiar too.

He has the whole tall, dark, and handsome thing going on. With a face like that, she should've been able to recall him with ease.

"I'm sorry," she says sheepishly. "Who are you?"

"Kuroo Tetsurou. We met once while we were visiting for a scrim set," he answers her patiently. "Well, sort of."

"Oh," she says dumbly, still unable to recall the encounter.

Glancing over his uniform, a crisp white shirt underneath a black sweater, put together with a red tie, Sawa vaguely remembers a visiting school from Tokyo once upon a time, but again, is unable to put a name to the image.

"You must be freezing," Kuroo points out, unzipping the bag he has slung over his shoulder. "Here."

"Wait—"

Pulling out his athletic jacket from his satchel, he throws it to her. Sawa barely manages to catch it in time. Pausing a moment, she takes off her black fur coat, letting it fall to the ground. Sticking her hands through the proper holes, she puts on the red athletic jacket that has the word _Nekoma_ printed on the back.

"It fits me pretty well," she admonishes, even though the sleeves overextend way past her hands. "Don't you think?"

Realizing that she's not going to pick up her own fur coat, Kuroo kneels down and picks it up for her from the ground, "You should put this on too."

"But I look _good_ in red," Sawa whines, putting her hands on her hips.

Sighing, Kuroo tosses the fur coat over her shoulders, clasping the lapels together, "Are you drunk? Where's Oikawa-san?"

* * *

Day 34

_Kaede_ -chan [23:04]: I don't think this is working out.  
 _Kaede-_ chan [23:04]: I think we should break up.

"And then she broke up with me!" Oikawa whines, shoving the screen of his cell phone in front of Takeru's face. "I don't even know what I did wrong."

Removing his lips from the straw of his juice box, Takeru stares at his dim-witted uncle with half-lidded eyes. Oikawa sighs and kicks a nearby volleyball with his left foot, unable to play down his irritation, even in front of a kid.

"Why don't you just date Sawari-san?" Takeru points out indifferently.

It takes Oikawa a moment to actually digest the question.

Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, he replies, "It's not that simple."

"Well, what's so complicated about it?"

"We don't have that kind of relationship," Oikawa states stiffly.

"What kind of relationship do you have?" Takeru asks, placing his juice box on the ground.

The brunette recalls the conversation they had the other day, but brushes it off, knowing that there were plenty of _other_ fish in the sea. Sawa would never be the end goal, and what he was feeling was a result of spending time with her. He knows the drill, and he knows how fickle emotions can be.

Glancing quickly at the clock mounted on the wall, Oikawa blanches, "Crap. I'm late."

* * *

"The captain who organized the meeting with Nekoma turns up twenty minutes late for the same meeting," Iwaizumi states irritatedly, slapping Oikawa in the side of the head. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Sorry, Iwa-chan," the brunette replies with a grin, walking into the gymnasium hall. "I got caught up."

From the distance, Oikawa sees that there's only one player standing by the doorway, dressed in red and black. He has scruffy, dark hair, and is probably standing an inch or two taller than the brunette. Oikawa instantly recognizes him.

Nekomata-sensei and Irihata-sensei are in the middle of discussing something when he makes his grand entrance.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he announces. "Oikawa-san is here now~"

"Oikawa," Irihata-sensei smiles, motioning to the dark-haired captain wearing the number one on his red jersey. "This is Kuroo, the captain of Nekoma."

"Pleased to meet you," Oikawa states with a smile, reaching a hand out. ' _Nice hair_.'

"The pleasure is mine," Kuroo replies, reciprocating the same gesture with a wry smile.

* * *

Day 274: _12:10am_

"Is there a problem here?"

A man dressed in navy blue cop uniform walks up from the corner. Instinctively, Kuroo recoils at the sight, knowing that the situation between him and Sawa probably didn't seem so innocent.

"Nothing's wrong, officer," Kuroo states quickly, glancing over at Sawa, who happens to be staring intently at the glass window of the restaurant behind them. "Just talking to a friend."

"Is this boy bothering you?" The officer asks, eyeing the redhead carefully.

"I—"

"Oi!"

From the distance, Iwaizumi emerges from the corner of the street, "She's over here!"

Behind him, Oikawa follows up, completely out of breath as he runs towards her. "We've been looking all over town for you!"

But before Sawa can even acknowledge them, the corners of her eyes fill with darkness, and she collapses onto the ground with a _thump_.

* * *

Day 35

After the formal introductions and setting up the schedule and line-up for their upcoming scrim set, Oikawa steps outside to take a deep breath and go for a run before practice actually starts. It's early in the morning, and no one has awaken yet, but there's something about the isolation that keeps him on edge.

"You're here on a weekend? Don't have you have a social life to keep up with?"

Flinching at the sound of the voice, Oikawa turns around to find Sawa standing with her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair is pulled up in a neat bun, and she's wearing a pastel pink dress underneath a denim jacket. Something casual, something unlike her, and something rather refreshing, given the circumstances of their school uniforms.

"Sawa-chan! You gave me a fright," Oikawa says dramatically.

" _You gave me a fright_?" She echoes his words, staring at him in disbelief. "You talk like an old person. It's seriously weird."

"I do _not_ talk like an old person," he shoots back rather defensively.

"Do too," Sawa replies, sticking her tongue out as she spares a quick glance around the vicinity. "Anyway, are you here for practice?"

"Yep. We have a scrim set with Nekoma," Oikawa tells her with a smile. "You should stop by and watch. I'll even say hi if I catch you in the stands."

"How kind of you," Sawa states, unable to mask her sarcasm, "but I'm just here to pick up a textbook. I'm not interested—"

"Oi! Captain!"

From the distance, Kuroo manifests from the entrance of the second gymnasium. Wearing nothing but a black t-shirt and a pair of red shorts, he calls out again, "Where do you guys keep your extra kneepads?" And pause, when he notices the redhead standing next to Oikawa. "Oh? Am I interrupting something?"

"Nope!" Sawa interjects almost too quickly, a blush forming on her cheeks. "You're interrupting nothing. _Nothing_. Nothing at all. Nothing! _Nothing_."

"That's a lot of _nothings_ , Sawa-chan," Oikawa says blandly, staring at her with half-lidded eyes.

A dumb smile forms on her lips as she quickly brushes a lock of hair behind her ear. Nudging Oikawa in the rib, she brings her voice down to a whisper, "Oi, introduce me."

Wearing a look of complete and utter apathy, the brunette turns around and waves for Kuroo to pay attention. Clearing his throat, he calls out, "This is Sawari Setsuna. She wants you to call her Sawa-chan!"

Shooting Oikawa a glare, Sawa shifts her gaze to the dark-haired captain and bows in his direction, "Sawari is fine! Nice to meet you!"

"Oh, nice to meet you too," from a distance, he reciprocates the gesture and bows in return. "Sawari-san."

"Kuroo Tetsurou," Oikawa motions to the boy still standing in the frame of the doorway. "Captain of Nekoma."

"Yeah, I think I'll stop by your scrim set later to cheer you guys on," Sawa smiles at Oikawa.

Oikawa stares at her with half-lidded eyes, "I thought you said you weren't interested—"

"See you!" Sawa waves her hand enthusiastically at Kuroo, running towards the school building.

_'Why do I feel like I'm being ignored…'_ Oikawa frowns.

* * *

Day 276

Peering into the paper bag that's holding a red athletic jacket, Sawa sighs.

Occasionally, she looks up to spare an anxious glance at the entrance of Nekoma High School, searching for a familiar face she can't quite make out. Her trip from Miyagi to Tokyo had been somewhat unexpected, but she knew this was something she had to do to clear her conscience.

Dozens of students walk past her and she suddenly becomes very aware of her position outside the sea of black and red uniforms.

Naturally, her gaze continues to linger on the front entrance until a very familiar looking boy with scruffy dark hair emerges from the open doors, alongside another boy with faded blonde hair that looks like the remains of an outdated dye job.

Quickly, she runs up to the pair, holding out the paper bag, "I'm really, really sorry!"

Slightly miffed, Kuroo cocks his head to the side, "Sawari-san?"

"I'm _really_ sorry about what happened," Sawa states quickly, bowing low. "Like, super, _super_ sorry."

Staring at the ground, she continues, "I shouldn't have gotten so drunk, and I shouldn't have let things get out of line. It was irresponsible of me, and you ended up getting into big trouble because of it. It was my fault. I was stupid. And I'm sorry."

Trailing off, she continues pushing the paper bag towards him, "You lent me this. Your jacket. Thank you for that. I sent it to the cleaners, so it should be...clean now. I just..."

A blush crosses her cheeks, and she glances up to find Kuroo smiling sheepishly. Kenma, reading the situation carefully, pulls out his phone and ducks on ahead towards the gated entrance.

"Oi, you can save the apologies. Really, I was more worried that you might've died or something," Kuroo's smile only widens as he takes the paper bag from her hand. "Thanks for bringing this back, by the way."

_'He's not...mad at me_?' Sawa thinks anxiously to herself. Unprepared for this kind of reaction, her blush only deepens, "I...there must be something I can do to make it up."

Kuroo laughs, "Hm...You could buy me lunch."

"Buy you lunch?" Sawa echoes, knitting her brows in agitation.

"Well, if that's too much to ask for, you don't have to," Kuroo says, shrugging his shoulders.

"No, wait. Please let me buy you lunch," the redhead interjects.

"Excuse me?" The dark-haired boy cups his ear with his hand, pretending he can't hear.

Still adamant, Sawa leans on her tippy-toes, "I said _please_ let me buy you lunch."

"Still can't hear—"

" _Please_ let me buy you lunch!" She yells.

He grins deviously, "Don't do me any favors, Sawari-san—"

" _I WANT TO BUY YOU LUNCH_!"

"Okay, okay," he tries to stifle his laughter. "I'll let you buy me lunch."

* * *

Day 274: _11:03am_

Cracking her eyes open, Sawa stares up to find an unfamiliar seafoam green tiled ceiling. In an attempt to sit up, her entire view shakes, and she suddenly feels searing pain in her left arm, where she finds an IV needle.

The lights seem brighter than usual, and the nearby rattling of a cart makes her head split.

' _The hospital_?'

"Sawa-chan,"

She tries not to flinch from the sheer surprise. Glancing over, she finds Oikawa standing up from his seat, walking towards her bedside at an alarmingly quick rate.

Without warning, he wraps his arms around her, and pulls her in for a tight hug.

Still unable to get over the searing headache, Sawa tries to blink away the pain, "What...happened last night?"

"You ran away and got drunk in Torono Town. The doctors found some kind of drug in your system. They said it was a date rape drug," Oikawa states. "Iwa-chan, Kuroo-chan, and I were all questioned by Nobu-san—"

The rest of his explanation trails off into obscurity as Sawa tries to recall the events from the night before. ' _I was drugged_?'

Suddenly, she remembers her arrival, and the moment Keiko gave her a tin canister filled with some kind of whiskey. Tears fill Sawa's glossy eyes, and she tries desperately not to think about the fact that she'd fallen for the same trap once again.

"Sawa-chan."

Sandwiching her face with his hands, Oikawa (quite literally) pulls her attention back towards him. Eyes filled with concern, he stares intently at her, squishing her cheeks together, "Oi. Why did you run away? Why didn't you talk to me about this? Why didn't you answer my calls?"

Pulling back, Sawa rubs her cheeks, "I didn't want to bother you."

_That girl is way too good for you_.

Before she can finish, Oikawa wraps his arms around her, "I'm sorry."

No flirtatious smile; no games this time, "I'm sorry I wasn't around, and I'm sorry I made you feel alone. I'm sorry I didn't come visit you after what happened with jii-chan. I'm sorry. I'm..."

Sawa watches as tears stream down the side of Oikawa's cheeks.

"I'll try harder," he says. "So please don't shut me out."

For the first time in a long time, Sawa lets herself completely relax in his arms. It's one of those moments where she breathes his name in all her _exhalations_ , one of those moments where she can finally unfold and let go; despite what happened, and despite the streak of repeat mistakes she's made in the past 24 hours, Oikawa hasn't left. She's a basket-case of raw emotion and fucked up priorities, but he's still waiting here in the seat of her hospital room.

"I love you," she tells him.

The words make him shift his gaze. It's not the first time those three words are exchanged between them, but it's the first time Sawa's ever said it on her own accord. No _'don't you have something to say back, Sawa-chan?'_ or ' _aren't you missing something, Sawa-chan_ ' to pry it out of her.

"Oi, don't just leave me hanging," Sawa purses her lips, staring anxiously at the brunette.

Grabbing her by the shoulders, Oikawa pulls her in and kisses her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so for this-I wanted to touch on addiction and how detrimental it can be, especially for a high school girl. And how it manifests differently in people. Sometimes signs of addiction are hard to read. It's important to always reach out for help and not feel ashamed of it because of the stigma surrounding it.
> 
> Anyway, I wrote and rewrote this a couple of times, and I'm still not really happy with how it turned out but oh well. But I wanted to get this out so I could finish this story lol it should be over in the next chapter~ Q_Q

**Day 300**

Oikawa [12:00am]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  
Oikawa [12:00am]: I'm the first one, right?  
Oikawa [12:00am]: Oikawa Tooru is always first.

Staring at the phone at his screen expectantly, Oikawa relents a loud sigh. He presses his cheek against the table and faces Iwaizumi, who currently has his attention pointed to the open textbook in his lap. When Oikawa realizes that Iwaizumi isn't going to acknowledge his dramatic lamentations, he sighs again—this time, with more emphasis.

Still, no response.

"Iwa-chan," the brunette decides to break the silence, pouting. "Why hasn't Sawa-chan responded?"

Iwaizumi doesn't bother looking up from his book, "How long has it been?"

Oikawa glances at the clock. 12:02am. "Two minutes."

"This conversation is over."

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

By the time morning comes, Oikawa cycles his way to school again, stopping by the bus stop. At this point, it's sort of tradition for him.

And as fate would have it, Sawa shows up. This time, she's carrying a thermal case of what he presumes to be coffee. Probably a good idea, considering the number of times she's spilled her paper cups on the concrete ground.

"Ohayo, Sawa-chan~" Oikawa greets her with a smile.

"Ohayo, Tooru," she responds, rubbing her left eye with the cloth of her mitten. "You're awfully perky today."

Not that it's a complete surprise. He's always been somewhat of a morning person. It's a trait Sawa can't quite comprehend, but it fits in with the whole bubbly, happy-go-lucky persona he has down. Yawning obnoxiously, she rubs away the tears forming in her eyes with her mittens.

"That's because it's your birthday," he tells her as she takes a seat on the rack behind his bicycle seat.

Sawa snakes one arm around his waist and sips slowly on her cup of coffee. She presses her cheek against his back as he begins to pedal off onto the main road.

"Okay," she says.

"What kind of answer is that?" Oikawa snaps exasperatedly.

"I don't really celebrate my birthday," says Sawa with a shrug. "It's not a big deal to me."

The brunette arches a brow in confusion, "What about presents? Cake? How could you not care about your birthday?"

"My family is pretty well off, so I have almost everything I need," again, Sawa's answer is nonchalant. "I don't really like sweets, and I just don't like making a big fuss out of nothing."

Oikawa sighs, "You really are no fun."

* * *

 

Sawa stares ominously at the group of neon colored balloons that her class representative, Rika, is holding.

"This is embarrassing."

"Well, someone decided to leave them for you here today," replies Rika, tying the strings of the balloons around Sawa's wrists. Picking up the stray card lying out on the counter, she pushes her glasses up her nose bridge. "It says it's from Oikawa Tooru."

A blush forms on Sawa's cheeks. Resisting the urge to audibly groan, she says, "I have gym class today."

"You can throw them away, if you want," Rika tells her. "No one's asking you to wear them all day."

Sawa pouts, peering up at the balloons. The look on her face is divorced somewhere between irritation and reluctant acceptance. I guess they don't look that out of place, she thinks to herself as she filters through the open entrance of her classroom. Surprisingly, no one even bothers to spare her or the balloons any attention as she heads towards her assigned seat.

Iwaizumi enters from the backdoor, making his way through the aisle. He glances up at the neon balls floating in the air next to his desk and the irritated looking redhead attached to the other end of the strings, "Nice balloons."

Sawa frowns, sliding her chair out to sit down, "You could at least say good morning."

He snorts, taking a seat next to her, "The world doesn't revolve around you, even on your birthday. Princess."

Sightly taken aback, Sawa clamps her mouth shut. Being unabashed and hardheaded isn't her strong suit, despite the pretense she puts on. That the sort of thing that only works on Oikawa, after all.

"Have you given in your college application, Sawari-san?" asks Hiromi, the pretty brunette sitting one seat behind Iwaizumi. "I heard you're graduating early."

At the sound of the topic at hand, Iwaizumi perks up. Not enough to incite question from Sawa or Hiromi, but enough so that his reaction surprises even himself. College has been a touchy subject recently, considering the nature of her complex relationship with Oikawa. She's found almost every reason to avoid talking about it in his presence.

Probably still ruminating on the fact that it'd mean an inevitable separation.

"Keio? Nagoya?" Hiromi lists of the names of the schools like it's the alphabet. "You said Tokyo was your first choice, right?"

"Actually," Sawa scratches the side of her cheek, shifting her gaze to the balloons floating over head, "I don't know if I'm a good fit for Tokyo."

_Oh now she decides to be humble_ , Iwaizumi thinks to himself, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Ne, ne. Isn't it a little late to still be deciding?" Hiromi replies listlessly. "So where do you wanna go? Do you know what you want to study?"

"I'm not sure about my major," Sawa admits sheepishly. "I'm probably going to apply to Osaka, Hokkaido, and Tohoku."

The same schools Oikawa is applying to.

It doesn't take a genius to figure it out.

Propping an elbow on his desk, Iwaizumi angles his gaze so that he's able to make out the redhead from the corner of his eyes. There's something he can't quite put his finger on, something he can't quite read. After all, there are girls who are the prettiest when they look happy. For some reason—and maybe it's the tension in the air or the fact that he hasn't really seen her without a frown or grimace—he realizes that Sawa is probably the kind of girl who looks the prettiest when she's genuinely sad.

* * *

 

_Kuroo Tetsurou [3:05pm]_ : How's your birthday, Sawari-san? ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

Cocking her head to the side, Sawa slips her phone into the pocket of her cardigan before walking towards the open courtyard in front of the school entrance.

"Wanna grab a bite?" Hiromi asks, tugging on the back end of her sneakers. "My treat."

Sawa smiles, "I want to, but I can't. Promised Oikawa-san I'd wait for him today."

"Oh?" Hiromi quirks a brow in curiosity. "Are you two dating or something?"

"We're just friends," Sawa says, fiddling slightly with the strings of the balloons that are still tied around her wrist.

At this point, she doesn't even bat an eyelash when she throws out the lie.

Hiromi purses her lips, "Alright, if you say so."

* * *

 

An hour passes.

Two.

Then three.

By the time all club activities have shut down, Sawa is sitting alone on the concrete pavement outside the courtyard. She realizes that, at this point, he's probably not going to show up.

She unties the balloon strings tied around her wrist and watches in morbid fascination as the neon balls deflate and collapse to the ground. Unable to bring herself to actually litter, she picks up the remains and stuffs it into her pockets. They were technically presents, after all.

Standing up, Sawa stretches out her arms before walking towards the bus station. At this point, she can't say she's too surprised.

She pulls out her phone and glances over the messages Kuroo sent earlier.

_Sawa_ [6:10pm]: It's not going great, to be honest

In no less than a second, she gets a reply.

_Kuroo_ [6:11pm]: Are you okay?

Maybe Sawa had been a little vague with him. In retrospect, she probably should've tacked on an extra comment to reassure him that everything was okay. Heading towards the bus stop, she types up a quick response.

Sawa [6:11pm]: Sorry, I'm just being a wuss and feeling sorry for myself. I don't really celebrate my birthday anyway, so it's not that big of a deal. Don't mind me! ^_^

She hesitates, wondering if she's being too clingy or desperate. Heaving a sigh, she decides to add on another apology text. But before she can press send, she realizes that her phone is vibrating, and Kuroo Tetsurou's name appears on the caller ID.

Sawa hesitates, and presses down on the decline button.

* * *

 

Lying down on the floor of her kitchen, Sawa stares up at the two bottles of cheap red wine sitting on her dining room table. Sitting up, she grabs the first bottle and uncaps it with a quick flick of her wrist while the smell of alcohol permeates the air.

Sawa breathes deep, letting the scent consume her. Leaning the back of her head against the wall of her kitchen, she touches the edge to her lips, not enough to even get a sip. The taste of alcohol is fleeting, but it's enough to make her jaw clench. Cranking her neck back, Sawa slams the back of her head against the wall and relents a sigh.

_Don't do it. Don't do it._

* * *

 

"You need to take a break," Iwaizumi snaps, grabbing very irritated looking Oikawa by the collar of his t-shirt. Walking towards the sideline, he drags the brunette along to where the entire team is packing up and getting ready to leave. "You're obviously worn out."

"I'm fine," Oikawa responds stubbornly, sticking out his lower lip in the form of a mock pout. "See?"

He stands up, and white hot pain immediately shoots up his right knee. Wincing, Oikawa falls back onto the bench with a soft thump while the rest of the team continues looking on in concern.

"You're pushing yourself, idiot," Iwaizumi snaps. "Your knee hasn't even completely healed from last time."

Oikawa forces himself up slowly, this time. Although the pain still lingers, he manages to grit his teeth and put on a smile for show, "That's fine. I just need to walk it off."

Kindaichi passes up the brunette's water bottle, "That's the last thing you should be doing when you're injured, senpai."

"Oi, don't worry your little heart over me," Oikawa tells him airily. Then, shifting his attention back to the team, he beams. "Good practice today, everyone. Morning practice starts at 7:30am tomorrow so don't be late~!"

There's a simultaneous chorus of thank yous before the team begins to filter off the court in groups. By the time Oikawa has his belongings packed up, everyone is gone, except for Iwaizumi.

"I'll take care of morning practice tomorrow," Iwaizumi states stiffly. "You stay home and rest."

"Maaa, maaa, Iwa-chan," Oikawa chides in a singsong voice. "You're making a big deal out of nothing."

A vein ticks out from the side of Iwaizumi's head, "Last time this happened, you ended up in the hospital. So don't tell me I'm making a big deal out of nothing."

The brunette purses his lips, "Iwa-chan—"

"Just drop the ego," Iwaizumi interjects flatly. "It's not doing you any favors. If you show up tomorrow, I swear to god I'll beat the shit out of you."

Oikawa pauses, the corners of his lips tipping up to form a big smile, "You always worry about me, Iwa-chan." Turning towards the hallway, he waves his hand nonchalantly, "Fine, then. I'll take a break and I'll see you Monday."

The smile vanishes from the brunette's face as he turns into the hallway. Leaning against the wall, he limps towards the front entrance of the school. On the way, he pulls out his cell phone and finds two missed calls from Sawa.

"Crap," he mutters, typing up a frantic return message.

* * *

 

Standing up, Sawa stretches her arms out with a wine bottle her in hand, walking towards her desk where a bunch of papers are strewn across the surface. Underneath her math booklet, she fishes out her phone.

A few pages drop to the ground and she kneels down to pick them up while she attempts to open a number of unread text messages with her other hand. From the Caller ID, she can tell it's from Oikawa, but her gaze suddenly shifts to the standardized college application paper in her hands and the three blank spaces where her top choices were supposed to be.

Her phone buzzes again.

16 missed calls from Oikawa.

_Oikawa_ [8:43pm]: I'm so sory  
 _Oikawa_ [8:43pm]: I got caught up during practice  
 _Oikawa_ [8:44pm]: Please don't be mad at me Sawa-chan T_T_T  
 _Oikawa_ [9:05pm]: I even had a surprise for you  
 _Oikawa_ [9:10pm]: Don't ignore me T_T_T

Just as she decides to write up a response, her fingers twitch, and she winds up pressing the call button. As she's about to hang up the call, someone picks up on the other end. Muttering some profanities under her breath, she presses the screen to her cheek, wedging it against her shoulder.

"Sawari-san?" Kuroo's voice is familiar, warm, and surprisingly clear against the backdrop of Tokyo.

"Kuroo-san," Sawa says softly, her cheeks flushing pink. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean to—"

She pauses mid-sentence, giving herself time to catch her breath. Leaning against the wall with her back, she slides down onto the floor, and pulls her knees to her chest. She's still holding onto her college application, staring at the three blank spaces she'd yet to fill in.

Then, she shifts her gaze to the bottle of wine in her other hand.

"Sawari-san?"

A sad smile forms on her face.

"Hey," she says. "Could you tell me something nice? I think I'm about to do something really dumb."

There's a moment of silence on the other side. Sawa can hear a siren in the background zip off into the distance and some shuffling around on the other end.

"Do I need to call the police? You're not going to try and kill yourself, are you?" Kuroo asks hesitantly.

"No, no. I'm not...trying to hurt myself. I just," the redhead pauses, staring at the open bottle of wine hanging in her free hand. Technically, it doesn't fall under the realm of self-harm, but it might as well, considering its the history of her alcohol-induced aftermath. "I think I'm about to start drinking again, and it's not a place I really want to return to."

There's a pause on the other hand. It was a difficult problem to be candid about. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if Kuroo brushed her off, told her to get some help, pretended to care, only to never call or speak to her again.

"Something nice, huh?" Kuroo echoes the question softly. "Well, are you outside right now?"

"I'm in my apartment," Sawa replies. Sitting on the floor.

She wonders where this is going.

"Well, go look out the window."

The redhead sighs, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, "Okay, I'm looking." 

A lie.

"Tch. No you aren't," Kuroo tells her. "C'mon. Get up and look."

Forcing herself up from the ground reluctantly, Sawa walks towards the window, and pulls back the curtains.

She stares up at the sky, filled with stars. The moon is hanging low, bright and yellow. It looks like it might just swallow the earth if she stares hard enough. There's something terrifying and endearing about it, and Sawa can't quite comprehend the juxtaposition of those two feelings. Lifting open her window, she props her elbow on the ledge, and continues staring up.

Sawa sighs contentedly, "Tell me more nice things."

She can practically hear him smile on the other side.

"You're smart and kind," Kuroo says, "and you have a good sense of morality."

Sawa ruminates on this. As she reaches her hand up towards the sky, she realizes that she's forgotten the wine bottle on the kitchen floor.

* * *

 

After getting off the phone, Sawa turns back to her college applications. She fiddles around here and there with her Nintendo 3DS, but ultimately decides to concentrate on the sitting task on her desk. This is what would dictate her future, in the end.

3\. Tohoku University  
2\. Kyoto University  
1\. Tokyo University

Taking a deep breath, Sawa shifts her attention back to her phone. She hadn't forgotten about the text messages she so willingly ignored earlier on. She figures the brunette on the other side of town is probably still sitting nearby his phone, desperately awaiting an answer.

_Sawa_ [11:12pm]: What's the surprise?

She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, but her phone vibrates almost instantaneously. A new message.

_Oikawa_ [11:13pm]: SAWA-CHAN! You finally answered

Smiling slightly, she types up another message in reply.

_Sawa_ [11:13pm]: What's the surprise?  
 _Oikawa_ [11:13pm]: This is the type of greeting I get? T_T  
 _Sawa_ [11:13pm]: Goodbye  
 _Oikawa_ [11:14pm]: OKAY FINE. Meet me outside your apartment in twenty minutes.

* * *

 

"Can I take the blindfolds off now?"

Oikawa grins toothily, "Yes."

Untying the pink band wrapped around Sawa's eyes, Oikawa steps forward, motioning to the single brick wall standing in the middle of an open field, "Ta-da~"

Sawa squints, unsure if she's missing something. But from the dumb look on Oikawa's face, she knows this probably isn't one of his practical jokes.

"You got me a wall?"

He nods, "Yup."

Glancing around the area one more time to check if she's not missing out on some pre-planned prank, Sawa returns her gaze to the expectant looking brunette standing in front of her.

She's momentarily distracted by the sheen on his skin, and the way his shirt is sticking to his chest. Like he'd just stepped off of the volleyball court. Which is something probably not too far from the truth. When she remembers that this was probably the reason why he'd abandoned her earlier in the day, she clenches her fists.

"Think of it as your new canvas," Oikawa says.

And suddenly, it dawns on her.

"You're ridiculous," Sawa mutters under her breath.

Not quite the answer Oikawa expects.

Almost instantaneously, the smile on his face fades into a frown, "C'mon, even your grandfather said you were a talented artist."

The redhead opens her mouth to retort, but bites back the insult that's on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she relents a heavy sigh before walking away towards the main road, "Don't talk to me about what he said."

It doesn't take Oikawa more than a few steps to catch up, grabbing her roughly by the elbow, "Oi."

Sawa shakes him off emphatically, "You know what? I didn't even want to get into this."

The brunette just stares at her, unable to mask the look of contempt burning in his eyes.

"Why would you bring jii-chan up?" Sawa snaps.

"He has Alzheimer's," Oikawa tries to say. "You can't hold a grudge—"

She stares at him incredulously, "Can you just stop? I get that this was supposed to be some romantic gesture. But I really don't need it right now."

There are tears welling up, and if there's anything Oikawa's unequipped to handle, it's a girl who's about to have an emotional breakdown. It's the same, sad story every time. The girl who cries; and the boy who walks away at the first sight of conflict.

The last time this happened, it was at the nursing home. Sawa had brought in another painting, just like her grandfather asked. And it ended up smashed into pieces.

And that's when she returned to her old habits.

The drinking.

The friends.

The same shit that got her expelled from Shiratorizawa in the first place.

"It brings back things I don't want to remember," Sawa says.

Oikawa stares at the blank wall before shifting his gaze to the redhead walking into the far-off distance.

Then, he bolts.

His knees are about to give out from the sheer pain, but he grits his teeth through it. Anger pulses through his veins and he tries desperately to avoid spitting profanities at her back. Maybe it's the tension, the unhappiness, the disappointment, or maybe it's the fact that his glass knees will probably mean the end of his volleyball career. He doesn't know; doesn't care. The only thing he wants to do is scream.

Sawa senses him approaching at an alarming rate but before she can react properly, Oikawa grabs her by the wrist, stopping her in place.

"I'm ridiculous?" He snaps. "You're ridiculous!"

Completely thrown off by the sudden change in heart, Sawa knits her brows, "What're you—"

"There's no point in beating yourself up over something that was out of your control," Oikawa says. "You're just wasting your talent! Don't you have dreams? Aspirations? Don't you have something you want to pursue?"

"I—"

"Those stupid video games? That can't be the only thing on your mind. What do you dream about?" He grabs her roughly by the shoulders. "Tell me!"

Oikawa watches in utter mortification as Sawa's expression melts from irritation to one of sheer terror. Pulling out of his grip, she walks—runs off into the distance as fast as she can, never turning to look back.

This time, Oikawa doesn't chase after her.

* * *

 

**Day 365**

The cherry blossoms are blooming. Today, of all days. And that might just be the cruelest twist of irony.

"Do you even care about him?" Iwaizumi asks.

Sawa resists the urge to completely unravel right then and there, sucking in a deep breath and tugging on the strap wrapped around her shoulder. She sulks visibly, "No." A blatant lie, of course.

"You're so full of shit," he says, resisting the urge to groan. "Just kiss and make up already."

She fiddles with a loose string on her skirt, wrinkling her nose in distaste, "He has a girlfriend."

"Oh right," Iwaizumi concedes this tidbit with indifference, picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails. "Shiori-san. That second year. Man, the guy moves on quick."

Sawa remains silent, staring down at her lap.

"With the way things turned out, I'm surprised you're even here," Iwaizumi says. "I mean, weren't you the one who said you were never going to come back to Miyagi again?"

And when Sawa doesn't immediately respond, he cocks his head forward so that he's forced into her line of vision. "What? All of a sudden, you're being quiet now? Jeez."

It's true. The nature of Sawa and Oikawa's relationship has always been rather unpredictable, but never has it ever been so volatile. The only way Oikawa knew it was truly over was when he watched her dismantle and pack up her apartment.

"Good luck today," the redhead says quickly, turning the conversation. "Tell him I'll be rooting for him."

Iwaizumi snorts, rolling his eyes, "Why don't you tell him yourself?"

* * *

 

**Day 332**

It's one of her grandfather's good days, and Sawa is relieved to pay him a visit. Although he has no memory of what transpired last time, she puts on a smile for show and diverts his attention to the present. She's finished her classes, and she's heading to Tokyo University soon, which means the only thing on her mind is packing up her apartment.

It occurs to her, at some point, that she's been distracting herself from the mess of her post-breakup life. But Oikawa has moved on, and so should she. After all, the only reason why she never labeled her relationship was because she knew there'd be an inevitable separation at some point. She wasn't stupid. In the end, high school romances rarely last.

"I really hope you're happy, Setsuna," her grandfather tells her.

She pauses for half a second before putting on the best smile she could manage, "I am."

* * *

 

**Day 365**

In the span of his seventeen years, Oikawa Tooru has only had one great love.

Her name was volleyball.

Although he never cared to admit it (after all, there was something strangely endearing about passing off as an effortless genius), she was the only thing he'd ever wake up early in the morning for.

Bleed for.

Breathe for.

And when Sawa watched him take down Karasuno in the most important match of his athletic career, she cried.

Cried, because this was the only time she'd ever see him truly happy.

Cried, because there was nothing more she wanted than for him to succeed.

The Great King, or some derivative.

From the stands, Sawa watched as the entire team collapsed in onto their captain. Some were on the verge of tears; others were in sheer shock. The crowd of fans around her erupted into cheers and screams.

It was the only time she'd ever seen Oikawa in his element.

This was different from Ushijima and Shiratorizawa. It didn't feel like infatuation, or admiration. Rather, the feeling was divorced somewhere between melancholy and relief. Maybe it was the atmosphere, or maybe it was the fact that Sawa had finally accepted her initial resignations about their relationship. She couldn't tell. And quite frankly, she didn't care anymore.

* * *

 

**Day 366**

"Tooru?"

"Ne. What's with this informality?" Oikawa snaps, picking up the stray volleyball that managed to roll out of Takeru's backpack.

Ignoring his uncle's quip about his name, Takeru decides to continue, "Someone painted on the wall."

The brunette yawns, ushering his nephew towards the edge of the dirt path while a car passes by from behind, "The wall? What wall?"

"Ryuto-jiichan's brick wall," Takeru says. "The one near your house. Obaa-chan said you spent 30000 yen on the field. She thinks you got jipped."

"Ne, let's talk about something else," Oikawa says, brushing a hand through his hair.

"Anyway, I think it was a painting of you, Tooru," Takeru says. "It had your jersey number."

The brunette stops dead in his tracks.

* * *

 

It takes him a while to move through the thicket of the field. Oikawa hadn't bothered clearing it up after Sawa's birthday, and since her reaction had been nothing but distaste, he'd chosen to forget about it.

Truth is, moving on from a breakup wasn't hard for him. This wasn't the first time and Oikawa was desirable, smart, athletic, and handsome. A package of energy and spontaneity. Everybody at Seijoh had fallen in love with the pretense he put up, so why wouldn't he use that to his advantage?

After his last encounter with Sawa, he'd found himself another girlfriend in the span of two weeks. Shiori, a cute second year on the girl's volleyball team.

He hadn't spoken or contacted Sawa. Despite the tension, they found almost no reason to see each other. After all, they were in different friendship circles. He'd halfheartedly expected Sawa to be in pieces, or to pull another drinking episode. But surprisingly, she had moved on too. No sadness, no tears. No skipping school for the sake of it. Instead, she'd turned her attention to her friends and her grades, the latter which was paramount to her acceptance into Tokyo University. The truth is, he should've felt bitter. Or pissed. But instead, Oikawa was genuinely happy for her.

"This is the first time I've seen you act selfless," is what Iwaizumi had said. "I feel like I don't even know who you are anymore."

By the time Oikawa reaches the brick wall, he's out of breath.

Takeru hadn't been lying.

There's a painting.

It's a shot that focuses on the back of Oikawa's jersey against the backdrop of the black sky. There are stars ahead of him, and he's able to make out the vague outline of his side profile, but the focus is mainly on his jersey. The artist had been able to capture the movement of him walking forward, despite the unconventional perspective. It's a little muddled around the edges, a little unclear, and Oikawa realizes that only means Sawa had painted it a while back.

And painted underneath his jersey number in bold yellow letters:

_I dreamed of you._


	6. Glass Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end of the line.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with this. S/o to Ania, who's the best :)

Day 280

"How come you don't want to be my girlfriend, Sawa-chan?"

The redhead focuses on her open gaming console, knitting her brows in agitation.

"Sawa-chan~" Oikawa's singsong voice pierces the air. "Did you hear what I said?"

A sigh escapes Sawa's parted lips. She brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, clamps her gaming console shut, and walks over to her bed where the brunette is lying sprawled out on his stomach. Their shoulders touch, and she glances at the open book sitting in front of him.

"I just don't want to be remembered as the girl who dated Oikawa Tooru," Sawa states plainly, fidgeting slightly with her fingers.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Oikawa pouts. "I mean, you're dating _me_."

"It's not really about you," the redhead replies, resisting the urge to sigh. "It's more like...that's not the only thing I want to be remembered for. Some guy's girlfriend."

"But you'll be remembered as _Oikawa Tooru's_ girlfriend," he insists. "Not just some guy."

Narrowing her eyes, she shifts her gaze to her bedspread, "You keep making it about yourself, when it's really not about you at all."

And then, after taking a deep breath, she continues: "When people look back on this, they're just going to refer to me as another face in the sea of girlfriends you've had already. I'm just going to be a number to them."

"That's not true—"

"If it really matters that much to you," Sawa interjects, "then let's see where we are in a year. When we're both in college. I mean..."

Staring listlessly at outside the window, she rolls onto her back, "It's not like high school romances last, anyway."

A pause.

"You care too much about what other people think," Oikawa says, closing his book.

He decides to follow suit and roll onto his back.

Sawa shifts so that she's leaning against the crook of his shoulder, "You're probably right, but I can't help it. It's just who I am."

* * *

Day 458

Three months into college, Sawa decides to submit her work to a regional show at the art and design college nearby. It's a decision born of spontaneity and a little bit of stupidity, but she figures it's worth the hassle, considering her lighter workload and general boredom at her new school.

She invites almost everyone she knows.

Her new classmates at the university. Her old friends from Miyagi. Even her father. She doesn't actually expect all of them to show up (especially the ones that have to take the bullet train from Torono Town), but the excitement bubbles inside her stomach anyway.

She even extends an invite to Oikawa. But she manages to convince herself it's because she's being polite.

* * *

Sawa-chan [9:02am]: Oikawa-san! I know this is last minute, but I'm having an art show today. I'd really appreciate it if you'd stopped by, but if you can't, that's fine too.

* * *

At 3pm, the gallery begins to fill with students and their respective families. Sawa waits anxiously by her collection of pastel works.

The boy next to her has a collection of digital work, and the girl on her other side has a collection of paintings.

Sawa's collection is simple—an aesthetic introspective piece into her life in Miyagi. There are elements of abstract expressionism, but most of the hallmarks of living there are identifiable. The scenery is iconic, but she's focused mainly on the people living inside it.

The gears that keep the prefecture alive.

She watches sullenly as the girl next to her greets her parents when they enter the gallery.

* * *

Day 124

The room is cheesy and outdated.

Valentine's Day themed, even though it's Oikawa's birthday in the middle of July. Something about the red duvet and bedspread is almost off-putting, but he decides to accept the setting, albeit reluctantly. He figures it's a minor mishap in the grand scheme of what's about to happen. It's not like they'll be paying much attention to what's around them, anyway.

Oikawa's no virgin, so it undercuts the tension that might've initially settled between them when they start stripping their clothes. But it doesn't stop the anxiety from setting in anyway.

The pleasure of sex has been greatly distorted, Oikawa thinks. All those books and movies about sensuality were romanticized to ridiculous proportions. A glorification of an act that isn't so complicated at all.

It's probably because he's had everything handed to him. There's no thrill of learning the darker corners of his girlfriends' strange, little idiosyncrasies. It's not like he's ever cared enough to give a damn anyway.

He undresses Sawa slowly, hands wandering around her back for a clasp. She remains quiet, for the most part. It's her first time, so Oikawa understands. She's probably nervous, which means he'll have to take the mantle and lead the way.

Nothing new, really.

There's a strange vacancy in her face; she can't quite meet Oikawa's gaze, but she doesn't seem to mind when he manages to finally unclasp her bra.

He's not sure what to say, so the silence only exacerbates the anxiety. A bead of sweat looms over his eyebrow as his fingers ghost over her pale skin.

"We don't have to do this," he tells her, placing his hand over her shoulder. "If you're not comfortable."

It's startling, of course, how small she is in his grasp.

Hesitantly, Sawa places her palm against his chest. A small smile forms on her face, and in the dark, Oikawa can make out a faint blush on her cheeks.

Her hand travels all the way to the back of his neck, where she pulls him in for a kiss. It's intoxicating, of course, and Oikawa leans forward to deepen the kiss. His hands wind into her hair.

In a desperate attempt to quell the urge to completely ruin her, he grips the sheets of her bed, his knuckles fading white.

* * *

They lie in bed for a while, but Sawa is the first to get up.

"Did it hurt, Sawa-chan?" Oikawa asks, shifting onto his side to face her back.

The redhead grabs her button up and puts it on, "Just a little bit. At first."

Somewhere inside, Oikawa feels his stomach turn.

"C'mon," a smile lights up on Sawa's face and she extends a hand out. "Let's go, Tooru."

* * *

They show up at the air and space museum by the dock, much to Oikawa's surprise.

" _Jjang_!" Sawa motions to the entrance enthusiastically. "Happy birthday, nerd."

How she knows about his obsession with space travel, he'll never quite understand. He's not sure what makes him happier, really. The familiar air conditioned entrance of the museum, or the girl that made all this happen in the first place.

* * *

They spend most of the day perusing the facilities at their own pace. Sawa has little interest in the subject matter, but puts on an interested front for the sake of the brunette staring up at replicas of the space shuttles from the 1960s.

Oikawa notices, of course, and attempts to pique her interest by explaining to her years of pent up useless information accumulated inside his head. It's a half-measure, of course, but it's the sort of effort that makes her smile and want to learn more. She comments, somewhere down the line, that if he'd put half the effort he did into his studies, he probably wouldn't have failed calculus. To which he'd replied vehemently, _it was one test_!

At some point, they arrive inside an over-glorified dome titled the _galactic hall._ It's cheesy and ridiculous, but it's the kind of kitschy thing Oikawa knows Sawa would secretly enjoy.

The lights fade into pitch darkness and Oikawa feels her grab onto the hem of his jacket.

Artificial white lights blink from obscurity in the semblance of stars. There's a flash of purple haze that fades into darkness; another flash of deep indigo that fades just the same. A crackle of manmade thunder that lights up the sky for a fleeting moment.

Billions of years ago, the stars were born. Blaring and _screaming_ to explode into dust. An amalgamation of supernovas and bursts of light. Erratic thunderstorms caught inside the smallest confines of space. An combination of spontaneous combustions and happenstance.

And then, the universe.

The earth.

Life.

"I really love you," Sawa says, as the artificial stars around them hurtle forward into oblivion.

It's the first time either of them have said it. It's laughable, considering how long it's been. But from the tone of her voice, she doesn't seem flustered.

It's the kind of statement she says with resolve.

Under the light of the universe, Oikawa smiles.

The stars blink.

He takes her hand in his. Kisses it.

"I really love you too, Sawa-chan."

He means it this time.

* * *

Day 367

It's been a day since Oikawa discovered the wall.

"Oi, pay attention," Iwaizumi chides as the blare of a truck horn sounds off into the distance.

Grabbing Oikawa by the scruff of his collar, he throws him towards the inner side of the road, farther away from the ongoing traffic. "You're going to get yourself killed, idiot."

"Oikawa-kun has his head in the clouds again," Shiori, his current girlfriend, pouts.

Suddenly, her attention veers off to the empty rack behind Oikawa's bike seat. A smile lights up on her face, "Oikawa-kun~ could you give me a lift to school?"

As she moves forward to take a seat on the bike rack, Oikawa places his hand over it, "Ah, it's broken, Shiori-chan. Sorry. Maybe next time."

A lie, of course.

Shiori looks taken aback, but since the brunette is actually unable to meet her gaze, she decides to let the matter go. Her grip tightens on the handle of her briefcase and she shifts her gaze to the open ocean.

Iwaizumi glances at the back of the bike where the ghostly outline of a very familiar looking redhead should've been sitting. And then he stares at the hasty brunette pushing the bike towards the downward slope of the hill.

He senses the tension between Oikawa and Shiori and does a light jog to speed ahead, "Oi. I'll catch up with you later."

As he vanishes into the distance, Oikawa slows down his pace so that Shiori is walking with him side-by-side.

He knows it's selfish.

Stupid, almost.

After all, she's just another girl who's gotten caught in the crossfire of his tumultuous relationship with his own feelings. It's always been like this, one way or another. Dating has always been somewhat of a past time for him. And as transient as his relationships were, breaking up felt like rehashing a wound every damn time.

"I think we should end this, Shiori-chan," he says.

And then, he watches as she breaks into a thousand pieces in front of him.

It's clockwork.

Almost.

But he understands that this is new for her. It's her first relationship, after all.

And while she might've been another passerby in the sea of faces he'd learn to forget about, he knew better than anyone else that first loves were usually the hardest to let go of.

* * *

Day 458:

8:00pm

The exhibition is close to closing. Still, no one has shown up.

Sawa finds herself sitting on the ground underneath her pastel collection, hugging her knees to her chest. By this time, most of the other families have left. There are a few loiterers here and there, but most of the art students are rolling up their work and getting ready to head out.

It can't come as much of a surprise. She'd moved around most of her life and she couldn't have expected her friends to go out of their way to attend something she wasn't even sure she'd loved.

Art wasn't her mainstay, after all; it would always be something that'd belong to her father.

"Oi, Sawari-san! Sorry I'm late. Had prep school."

From the entrance, Kuroo waltzes in wearing his school uniform. A bead of sweat runs down the side of his face as he lifts a white grocery bag in the air, "Thought you might be hungry. I brought pork buns!"

Almost instantaneously, tears well up in Sawa's eyes as she quickly pushes herself off the floor.

Sawa bolts towards him, bowing low as she nears, "T-Thank you for coming! I really appreciate it!"

" _Ne_ , there's no need to be so formal," Kuroo says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. "Anyway, can I see what you made?"

* * *

3:03pm

Oikawa pays a visit to Sawa's grandfather. It's been two months since he's seen the painting on the wall, but his feelings haven't changed. It must've been surprising, considering his rap sheet of fickleness.

Of course, it comes with ulterior motives.

He wants to know where Sawa is living now, what classes she's taking, the foods she likes. She'd mentioned missing home-cooked food, and he wants to put on a gesture of good faith for her. To reassure her. Some romantic fallacy he's spun up in his mind.

But when he arrives, there's someone already there.

A middle-aged man with long black hair pulled into a ponytail is standing by the old man's bed side.

"You haven't changed at all, Ogata," Sawa's grandfather seethes between gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea how Setsuna—"

"I'm out there making money," the man named Ogata states, brushing his ponytail flippantly over his shoulder. "You seem to forget that we were poor for a long time before we were able to afford what we could."

"Don't bullshit me with the excuses about money," the old man snaps, rolling his eyes. "That hasn't been a problem in years. Don't use it as an excuse to disregard your own daughter."

Ogata replies acidly, "You wouldn't understand—"

Oikawa clears his throat, injecting himself into the room.

Completely disregarding the tension, he puts on a smile, "I think Sawa-chan would appreciate it if you went to her art show tonight."

The man with the ponytail arches a brow, glancing at the old man, "Who's this kid?"

"Your daughter's boyfriend," Sawa's grandfather replies with half-lidded eyes, fanning himself nonchalantly.

Oikawa is tempted to speak up, but decides to lower his voice when he sees that he has more to say.

"I'm on a flight to Paris in four hours," Ogata states tartly, glancing at the watch strapped to his left wrist.

"You don't even care that she has a boyfriend," the old man snarls. "You didn't give a damn when she got a tattoo. And now, you don't even care that—"

Ignoring his father's words, Ogata puts on a polite smile, shifting his gaze to boy standing by the doorway, "Send Setsuna my regards, would you?"

Oikawa isn't sure what compels him to do it.

Maybe it's the tension hanging thick in the air; maybe it's the little bit of impulsivity that's been hidden underneath layers and layers of controlled chaos and aggression.

But as his fist flies across Ogata's face, the only thing he can think about is Sawa eating dinner by herself.

* * *

9:03pm

As Sawa gets ready to remove her work from the wall, the door of the front entrance opens again to reveal a middle-aged man wearing a pressed blazer and a pair of loose jeans covered in paint stains.

He's wearing a half-grin on his face and he moves towards the curator, "Oi, Setsuna."

And from the other side, Sawa, still standing firm next to her collection of pastel work, visibly blanches.

Suddenly conscious of the way she looks, she brushes a lock of hair behind her ear and tries desperately to straighten her posture so that she at least appears put-together.

"Tou-san," she says, almost breathlessly.

Ogata stops in front of Sawa's collection.

From his pocket, he fishes out a pair of glasses and puts them on. Glancing over the work, his face is blank, "This is your work, Setsuna?"

Sawa stares at him anxiously, "Yes."

"Hm."

There's a look of disapproval on his face that's divorced between something expectant and something disappointed, "There's no perspective. No theme. No cohesion," he says; and the corners of his lips tip up to form a smile. "What're you trying to say? Who are you targeting?"

"I—" Sawa starts, but cuts herself short as notices the purple bruise on the side of her father's face.

"Tou-san, what happened to you?"

Ogata grins, "An accident. You wouldn't believe it."

* * *

Oikawa [10:03pm]: If you're going to yell at me, I just wanted to let you know he came at me first.

Smiling slightly, Sawa writes up a quick text before opening the door to her apartment building.

Sawa [10:05pm]: I have no clue what you're talking about  
Oikawa [10:05pm]: Oh  
Oikawa [10:05pm]: Never mind then!  
Sawa [10:06pm]: One last thing  
Sawa [10:06pm]: Next time, you should avoid the jaw. In case you break your thumb or something.

As the door swings open, she hears a loud: " _Jjang_!"

Instinctively, Sawa shrieks, dropping her floor to the ground with a loud _thump_.

As she digests the scene in front of her, she realizes it's Oikawa. There's a table filled with familiar foods. How he managed to pinpoint her favorite dishes down to the cold dishes, she'll never quite understand.

"How did you get the keys to my apartment?" She snaps, dropping her bag to the ground.

"Well, you'd be surprised how generous jii-chan can be—"

But before he can finish, Sawa runs up and snakes her arms around his waist. Relenting a soft sigh, she presses her cheek against his chest.

"Oi, Sawa-chan—"

"Just let me have this, okay?" She says tartly, gripping him tighter. "You're warm, and soft, and I really like you."

"S-Soft?" Oikawa manages to muster out. "I'll have you know I'm a serious athlete!"

* * *

Day 500

After classes end, Oikawa bolts out the door of his classroom and heads to the train station in Torono Town.

It takes him two and a half hours to arrive in the city. Normally, he'd be pretty dumbfounded by the overstimulation of flashing lights, but he only has one thing on his mind this time.

It doesn't take him long before he arrives at the building where Sawa should be ending physics.

Ten minutes pass until he watches as groups of students begin to filter out through the front entrance of the building.

It takes him half a second to spot out the redhead heading towards the gate, chatting with some classmates next to her. Next to her is a girl with long dark hair, telling a story emphatically with exaggerated hand gestures.

Sawa looks happy. Genuinely.

Suddenly, he has second thoughts. Oikawa hesitates, hiding behind the gated entrance.

He doesn't know where the cold feet comes from. Maybe it's her new haircut, or maybe it's because she seems different from how she seemed in Miyagi. He can't quite put his finger on it, but it makes him reconsider meeting her.

"Tooru?"

How Sawa manages to manifest right next to him, he'll probably never understand.

He puts on a smile for the sake of politeness, "Sawa-chan~"

"Who's this?" The dark-haired girl next to her asks curiously. "A boyfriend?"

Oikawa's grin only widens, "Actually—"

"Not my boyfriend, Haruka-san," Sawa states dispassionately. Then, shifting her attention to the brunette, she asks, "What're you doing here? How'd you know I was here?"

"Did you lose your way?" The girl named Haruka asks cheerfully. "I can take you where you need to go."

"That won't be necessary," Sawa interjects.

"Isn't he adorable?" Haruka sighs happily. "Like a lost little puppy dog."

"Is that a good thing or bad?" Oikawa asks, scratching the back of his neck.

Haruka returns the smile, "Obviously, it's—"

Sawa shoots a glare that could've killed, "Oi! Don't flirt with my—"

Flustered, she cuts herself off.

"Your what?" Haruka echoes vaguely, arching a brow in confusion.

Biting down on her lower lip, Sawa snaps, "My not-boyfriend."

A fierce blush forms on Sawa's cheeks and she grabs Oikawa's hand, leading him towards the open street. The brunette isn't even able to utter a protest before she pulls him towards the path of the main campus.

* * *

He's tepid, and the feeling isn't remotely like him, but he follows behind her until they arrive in her apartment.

Slamming the door shut behind her, Sawa immediately grabs him by the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

She tastes like the purest form of sweet desperation. It completely intoxicates him; unable to actually squash his anxiety, he pulls her close. Devouring her. Hands winding up her hair. It must've been some kind of lucid dream, he thinks.

It's not like the first time. It's different, of course. Everything about it is wet and urgent.

Natural.

The way he unbuttons her blouse; the way she rips off the belt holding up his pants; the way she wraps her legs around his waist; the way he puts her on the marble countertop of her kitchen; the way he pulls off her underwear from underneath her skirt; the way he feels inside her; the way she pulls him closer and closer. An action torn between shameless desperation and pent-up anxiety.

It's probably the most beautiful moment he's had in a long time.

* * *

The truth is, there's no certainty in the future. As he lays next to her in bed, he realizes this. In their most naked and empirical form, one thing seems pretty clear. They love each other, for whatever that's worth. It's not perfect, but it is what it is.

"I really hope I can marry someone like you in the future," Sawa says, breaking the silence.

It's not a vow worth saying aloud. She probably already knows at this point, anyway. Oikawa's feelings haven't changed, and they probably won't for a while.

But he's not looking toward the future. It's not the kind of mantra he wants to practice. He's just not the kind of boy who lives for tomorrows.

"You could just marry me, Sawa-chan," Oikawa says breezily.

Sawa sits up, pulling on her pressed white shirt. Putting on a smile, she tells him, "To be honest, it's still hard for me to tell when you're being serious or not."

He sits up next to her. He wants to open his mouth to reply something snarky but decides against it, in the end. She should know better than anyone else at this point.

Sawa's the only girl who's ever bothered to look past the facade he's been wearing, after all.

The redhead pulls her hair into a ponytail.

Standing up, she reaches a hand out eagerly, "C'mon. Let's go, Tooru."

* * *

**THE END**

* * *

Note: thanks for sticking with this. S/o to Ania, who's the best :)


End file.
